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BLOOD FEUDS
I. THE WARNING
Our story opens at IADC headquarters, in a secure conference room. Steve Trevor is leading a presentation about IADC’s mounting crackdown against the mob and explaining how, following the fall of the Bertinelli family, Wonder Woman has devoted herself to helping shut down and stamp out organized crime. With remarkable focus, she has become the bane of the remaining crime families and has succeeded in shutting down their key operations, one after another. He clicks through images on a large screen depicting her recent successes. One shows Wonder Woman standing triumphant as a big drug bust wraps up from a ship by the docks, with bad guys lying at her feet; another shows Wonder Woman standing by overturned card tables with money scattered across the floor, reflecting busting up of illegal gambling; another shows Wonder Woman seizing counterfeit dollars with cops in the background taking away the thugs; and a concluding one has her rescuing human-trafficking victims from a brothel as their former captors get led away with heads hanging low and their hands held up to shield them from cameras. Trevor says that IADC operations continue to target and make inroads against the worst of them all, the Falcone family, with Wonder Woman serving as the tip of the spear. For every tentacle they chop off, however, another one grows back. To truly succeed, they need to start attacking the head — particularly Carmine Falcone himself, who is presiding over local organized crime with an iron fist.
Diana Prince interjects with a grin, “knowing Wonder Woman as I do, I suspect she’ll want to give diplomacy a try first.” Trevor responds, “Sounds like it may be time for a summit. Can that be arranged?” Diana Prince responds with a smile, “I’m confident that our friend has her ways . . . .”
Now flash to the headquarters of the Falcone crime family, headed by Carmine Falcone, as he conducts his daily operations surrounded by his troops. Wonder Woman suddenly comes traipsing in, in broad daylight, throwing open the office doors and looking spectacular, flaunting her awe-inspiring physique, as barely contained by her skimpy, signature costume. She stands there displaying an idyllic portrait of feminine beauty, power, and fitness. Her jaw-dropping curves shine through under the light trappings of her costume, which complements her tanned, toned flesh with tasteful, patriotic notes of red, white, and blue; there are traces of gold, too, lacing the top of her red brassiere and punctuating her remarkable cleavage. Her legs are long, lithe and perfectly shaped; they’re the legs of a gymnast whose endless training has melded toned musculature with god-given, feminine curves. Her blue, white-starred briefs are high cut and designed to showcase her magnificent body without risking indecency when she springs into action. All the onlookers thus behold a feminine goddess standing before them in her perpetual prime, combining mesmerizing beauty with a physique that’s at once toned and curvaceous. Were she fully clothed, she’d turn heads walking down the street; clad only in her daring, form-flattering brassiere and high-cut briefs, however, most of her magnificent body is revealed and the effect is magnetic. Her ability to parade herself with impunity in front of those hardened criminals as they pine for her only highlights that she has total dominance over them; they know that she could lay any and all of them out flat with a snap of her all-mighty fingers. All the mob guys are simply agape and ogling. No one tries to stop her as she barges into Falcone’s private office, saying “I don’t have an appointment but trust Mr. Falcone will forgive my presumption.”
Falcone sits in his office, behind his desk, with his right-hand man Vinny standing next to him. Falcone is a large man whose round features and noticeable pudge overlay internal resolve and power, which radiate from him. There’s good reason why adversaries fear him and followers revere him. Vinny packs the punch his boss relies upon — his is the larger physique and it consists almost entirely of rock-hard, battle-tested muscle. Vinny has the look of someone who’s always ready for anything but knows well enough to avoid unnecessary troubles. Both men maintain poker faces when Wonder Woman traipses in.
Falcone says, “Well, well, well, to what do I owe this honor? It’s not often we see the likes of you around here.” Wonder Woman responds: “It’s not often I give scoundrels like you a second chance, Carmine.” Falcone: “Never mind second chances. This is our first chance to properly meet. Your reputation precedes you, of course, and Vinny and the boys tell me you haven’t disappointed us so far. Anyhow, what can I do for you today, my beauty?” Wonder Woman bends over the desk and reaches behind it to grab him effortlessly, pulling Falcone forward by the collar. “I want you to crawl back into the hole you crawled out of, Carmine. You’ve had your time and extracted your fortune, leaving a trail of corpses, blood, and tears in your wake. That’s all at an end. Your continued predations will not be tolerated. I’ll be bringing them to a stop, one way or the other.”
Wonder Woman then releases Falcone’s collar. Falcone straightens himself out and leans back in his chair, taking his time and choosing his words carefully. “How unfortunate. There’s so much room in this town. You have plenty of fish, bigger fish, you can catch. Go forth and catch them, with my blessing” Wonder Woman responds: “Maybe you misunderstand my reputation. That’s not how this works. The only deal you can make with me is surrender.” Falcone isn’t agreeable: “Look, you’re pretty, beyond belief, but this won’t end pretty for you. You should go your way and let us go ours. Or else . . . .” Wonder Woman looks bemused and smiles, asking “Or else what?” Falcone continues: “Or else you’ll meet the same fate that my family’s enemies have been meeting for generations, going back to Sicily. In fact, I’ve heard rumors about you crossing paths with our late friends the Bertinellis a while back, so you should know what I’m talking about.” Wonder Woman retorts: “Mob rumors are no concern of mine, nor should they provide any solace to you. We have our own traditions on Paradise Island, where I come from. Backing down to men like you isn’t among them.” Wonder Woman then wheels around as everyone gawks in awe and admiration, and she and Falcone each conclude simultaneously, “YOU’VE BEEN WARNED.”
On her way out, one of the goons gets adventurous and steps into her path to say, “With that outfit, I don’t know whether we should be going to the beach or to bed together, but it’s gotta be one or the other.” Wonder Woman looks at him like he’s a bug: “Neither, Palooka. I’m taking you to school so you can learn some manners.” Before he knows what’s hit him, she’s sent him soaring through a plate-glass window and onto the curb outside, where he lands flat on his back amidst a shower of glass as everyone erupts in laughter. She storms past him without looking back. One of the other goons cracks, “So much for letting him down gently.” Another says to his fallen comrade, “Good thing you flamed out on the first floor, Nick. You wouldn’t survive trying your slick moves with her in a penthouse.”
After Wonder Woman has exited and things have quieted down, Vinny says, “Maybe it’s time to pack it up, Boss, or at least lay low for a while. We’ve had a good run.” Falcone responds with a firm, “No way.” He asks Vinny: “What does an irresistible force do when it encounters an immovable object?” Vinny: “Beats me.” Fqlcone: “We go THROUGH her.” Falcone continues to Vinny, “Get word out on the street: We’re putting a contract our on our costumed beauty queen, and it pays handsomely.”
II. THE ESCALATION
Late that night, Falcone’s son, Junior, is exiting one of the Falcone night clubs with his loyal bodyguard, Tommy. Junior is a gym rat who is shredded on the surface but has seldom seen street combat because he’s so well protected and understood to be untouchable. Tommy, in contrast, is the younger version of Vinny — better prepared for action yet less eager for it than Junior is. On the street outside of the club, Junior gets grabby with a young, fetching woman who’s resisting his advances in no uncertain terms. Junior reaches under the woman’s skirt and shoves her towards his car while Tony looks on.
Out of nowhere, Wonder Woman’s golden lasso suddenly loops over Junior. Wonder Woman tells him, “‘No’ means ‘no,’ Junior. Now why don’t you tell these good officers (pointing to a nearby cruiser) what you’ve been up to . . . .” Junior has no choice but to confess to the officers that he sexually assaulted the woman. As they arrest him and put him in cuffs, Junior warns Wonder Woman menacingly: “I have to tell you the truth, so here it is: You’ll pay a steep price for this.” Wonder Woman retorts: “If you’re still feeling grabby when you’re out from behind bars, then come find me and we’ll see how far you get.”
As soon as he comes free, Tommy calls Falcone to report, “Boss, I have some bad news . . .” On the other end, Falcone slams down the phone while Vinny watches on with worry on his face. Falcone says, “Now it’s personal. Now it’s family.” Vinny: “Don’t worry. We’ll get this fixed. Our best lawyer can be there in minutes and Tommy’s gotta be getting Junior out on bail as we speak.” Falcone: “That’s not the problem, Vin, and that’s not the fix. I’ve been hearing that our problem has a problem of her own. Maybe we can arrange a special reunion to sort this out . . . .“
Blood Feuds (a harrowing WW saga)
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DrDominator9
- Emissary
- Posts: 2460
- Joined: 13 years ago
- Location: On the Border of the Neutral Zone
Good set-up. I look forward to reading more of this story.
III. THE CONTRACT
Back at IADC headquarters the following week, IRAC buzzes to alert Diana Prince that there’s been a huge bank heist — the biggest yet— traced to Falcone, whose men outgunned the police using heavy artillery and escaped to a desolate, dangerous part of the city. IRAC believes that a fast response may succeed in recovering the loot from the suspected getaway location, except that IADC personal and teams are otherwise occupied conducting scheduled operations. Diana Prince winks and jokes that she knows just the right person who can be counted on to handle this quickly. IRAC provides warning that the timing is conspicuous and any Falcone team may actually be expecting Wonder Woman alone to respond. Adding to concerns, reliable intelligence reports that multiple contracts have been put out for Wonder Woman, each paying top dollar. Diana Prince laughs it off and provides reassurance: “Wonder Woman would be flattered to know as much. Don’t worry, IRAC. This isn’t our friend’s first outing.. By now, she knows every trick Falcone might throw at her and is ready for all of them. As you know, IRAC, her belt is better protected than ever; it’d take someone of equal strength to remove it, and Carmine Falcone can’t come close.” IRAC reiterates the warning and suggests involving back-up, but Diana Prince offers confident assurance: “Wonder Woman’s on top of this crime and will want to attend to it personally. Please keep this particular mission just between us until it’s time to call in a clean-up crew.”
As soon as she exits IADC and can change discreetly, Diana Prince twirls and, with a burst of light, changes into her more scintillating persona, then speeds away to the suspected getaway location in hot pursuit . . .
. . . A short time later, Wonder Woman is clad (fetchingly) in her signature costume as she reconnoiters around a vast, abandoned warehouse. Five heavily-armed thugs stand outside, guarding the entrance. Wonder Woman surprises them and dispatches them all in a blur of motion, landing a succession of blows and knocking them senseless within micro-seconds, then hurling them into a neat pile, all without making a sound. She then stealthily enters the warehouse, bracing for whatever may await her.
As she navigates the entry area, a sniper takes careful aim, perched atop scaffolding in a corner and buried under a tarp that affords him complete camouflage. Yet Wonder Woman’s preternatural hearing detects the sound of the trigger pulling; she whirls instantly to deflect his shot and then makes a perfect throw with her tiara, knocking the sniper unconscious and sending him hurtling to the floor. As she picks up her tiara, she recognizes the would-be assassin as topping INTERPOL’s latest most-wanted list.
Wonder Woman enters the next room only to find a line-up of a half-dozen former Navy Seals, now mercenaries, opening up with rapid-fire assault rifles, outfitted with expanded clips. She deflects every shot in a. lightning-fast blur of motion and sends their bullets ricocheting back into them, but they are all wearing body armor and able to sustain their fire. In a micro-second, Wonder Woman cartwheels sideways to the right wall, from which she peels off a thick metal pipe running all the way down its length. She then swings the pipe in a wide arc across the room, knocking the six gunmen off their feet and sending them into la-la land as their guns clatter to the floor.
In the next room, two ninjas summoned from Japan leap at her from opposite sides. One feints with a katana before lunging for her belt, but finds Wonder Woman to be far too fast and alert. She snaps that ninja’s arm in the wrong direction, to the point that his bone bursts through his skin; he shrieks and passes out. In parallel, the other ninja gets his hands on Wonder Woman’s belt but finds it won’t budge. Before he can make another move, Wonder Woman is hurling the second ninja straight into and through the wall; the ninja shrieks in shock and terror before falling completely silent. Now men wearing cowboy hats come rushing at Wonder Woman, brandishing cattle prods and ropes. But Wonder Woman avoids the prods and turns them against this wave of assailants, who succumb to electric shocks. She deftly dodges lassoes and pulls the ropes of the three remaining cowboys towards her; she neatly binds them with her own golden lasso of truth and commands them to apply cattle prods to themselves, which they proceed to do.
Upon entering the next room, she finds it holds only one man, who stands behind a row of metal barrels. As Wonder Woman is entering, he presses a remote and unleashes a wide spray of darts coated with noxious-smelling poison of some sort. Before any can reach her, however, Wonder Woman has wrenched the metal entry door from its hinges and positioned it in front of her as a shield, against which the darts bounce off harmlessly. She grabs one dart off the floor and hurls it straight into the operator, who quickly slumps. Before he’s entirely out, however, the operator presses one more button and gas starts billowing up from the floor below Wonder Woman. Yet Wonder Woman is ready for this, too, and launches herself upwards and forward over the gas, somersaulting through the air and landing spectacularly and safely in front of one remaining door leading to the adjacent room. When she confidently strides though, a fortified steel panel slams down behind her, cutting off any retreat and forcing her towards a fateful, unexpected showdown . . .
Back at IADC headquarters the following week, IRAC buzzes to alert Diana Prince that there’s been a huge bank heist — the biggest yet— traced to Falcone, whose men outgunned the police using heavy artillery and escaped to a desolate, dangerous part of the city. IRAC believes that a fast response may succeed in recovering the loot from the suspected getaway location, except that IADC personal and teams are otherwise occupied conducting scheduled operations. Diana Prince winks and jokes that she knows just the right person who can be counted on to handle this quickly. IRAC provides warning that the timing is conspicuous and any Falcone team may actually be expecting Wonder Woman alone to respond. Adding to concerns, reliable intelligence reports that multiple contracts have been put out for Wonder Woman, each paying top dollar. Diana Prince laughs it off and provides reassurance: “Wonder Woman would be flattered to know as much. Don’t worry, IRAC. This isn’t our friend’s first outing.. By now, she knows every trick Falcone might throw at her and is ready for all of them. As you know, IRAC, her belt is better protected than ever; it’d take someone of equal strength to remove it, and Carmine Falcone can’t come close.” IRAC reiterates the warning and suggests involving back-up, but Diana Prince offers confident assurance: “Wonder Woman’s on top of this crime and will want to attend to it personally. Please keep this particular mission just between us until it’s time to call in a clean-up crew.”
As soon as she exits IADC and can change discreetly, Diana Prince twirls and, with a burst of light, changes into her more scintillating persona, then speeds away to the suspected getaway location in hot pursuit . . .
. . . A short time later, Wonder Woman is clad (fetchingly) in her signature costume as she reconnoiters around a vast, abandoned warehouse. Five heavily-armed thugs stand outside, guarding the entrance. Wonder Woman surprises them and dispatches them all in a blur of motion, landing a succession of blows and knocking them senseless within micro-seconds, then hurling them into a neat pile, all without making a sound. She then stealthily enters the warehouse, bracing for whatever may await her.
As she navigates the entry area, a sniper takes careful aim, perched atop scaffolding in a corner and buried under a tarp that affords him complete camouflage. Yet Wonder Woman’s preternatural hearing detects the sound of the trigger pulling; she whirls instantly to deflect his shot and then makes a perfect throw with her tiara, knocking the sniper unconscious and sending him hurtling to the floor. As she picks up her tiara, she recognizes the would-be assassin as topping INTERPOL’s latest most-wanted list.
Wonder Woman enters the next room only to find a line-up of a half-dozen former Navy Seals, now mercenaries, opening up with rapid-fire assault rifles, outfitted with expanded clips. She deflects every shot in a. lightning-fast blur of motion and sends their bullets ricocheting back into them, but they are all wearing body armor and able to sustain their fire. In a micro-second, Wonder Woman cartwheels sideways to the right wall, from which she peels off a thick metal pipe running all the way down its length. She then swings the pipe in a wide arc across the room, knocking the six gunmen off their feet and sending them into la-la land as their guns clatter to the floor.
In the next room, two ninjas summoned from Japan leap at her from opposite sides. One feints with a katana before lunging for her belt, but finds Wonder Woman to be far too fast and alert. She snaps that ninja’s arm in the wrong direction, to the point that his bone bursts through his skin; he shrieks and passes out. In parallel, the other ninja gets his hands on Wonder Woman’s belt but finds it won’t budge. Before he can make another move, Wonder Woman is hurling the second ninja straight into and through the wall; the ninja shrieks in shock and terror before falling completely silent. Now men wearing cowboy hats come rushing at Wonder Woman, brandishing cattle prods and ropes. But Wonder Woman avoids the prods and turns them against this wave of assailants, who succumb to electric shocks. She deftly dodges lassoes and pulls the ropes of the three remaining cowboys towards her; she neatly binds them with her own golden lasso of truth and commands them to apply cattle prods to themselves, which they proceed to do.
Upon entering the next room, she finds it holds only one man, who stands behind a row of metal barrels. As Wonder Woman is entering, he presses a remote and unleashes a wide spray of darts coated with noxious-smelling poison of some sort. Before any can reach her, however, Wonder Woman has wrenched the metal entry door from its hinges and positioned it in front of her as a shield, against which the darts bounce off harmlessly. She grabs one dart off the floor and hurls it straight into the operator, who quickly slumps. Before he’s entirely out, however, the operator presses one more button and gas starts billowing up from the floor below Wonder Woman. Yet Wonder Woman is ready for this, too, and launches herself upwards and forward over the gas, somersaulting through the air and landing spectacularly and safely in front of one remaining door leading to the adjacent room. When she confidently strides though, a fortified steel panel slams down behind her, cutting off any retreat and forcing her towards a fateful, unexpected showdown . . .
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DrDominator9
- Emissary
- Posts: 2460
- Joined: 13 years ago
- Location: On the Border of the Neutral Zone
A fun gauntlet for her to run and well described. Thanks for the new chapter.
(III. THE CONTRACT, continued)
. . . Facing Wonder Woman is her old arch-nemesis, Talia al Ghul, whom Wonder Woman had last left imprisoned on Paradise Island under guard by the Amazons, after sending Ra al Gaul, Talia’s father, scurrying into retreat and obscurity. A ring of Falcone’s mob heavies encircle the two women in what appears to be an arena; among the observers are Falcone himself, Vinny, Junior, and Tommy. Talia is clad in a skin-tight, black, spandex bodysuit, adorned only by a blood-red belt around her waist; black, steel-toed boots run all the way up her shapely calves. Talia’s dark beauty and lithe, toned physique are second only to those of Wonder Woman herself. If anything, Talia’s musculature is somewhat more pronounced as compared to her counterpart’s, reflecting just how intensively she’s been training for this encounter.
Talia eyes Wonder Woman as prey, while Wonder Woman shows surprise at the match-up, saying, “Talia, I thought our feud was behind us and you were on a brighter path.” Talia responds: “Far from it. As long as you draw breath, Amazon, our feud persists and I’ll never stray from exacting my revenge. Happily, today brings us to our rightful conclusion. Be warned that I’ve been preparing for this day since last we met, studying your every technique and learning how to counter each. Of course, there still remained the problem of your divine powers, which I could never match — that is, until I found a Professor Chapman, who offered me a rather remarkable innovation for an exorbitant sum.” Talia taps her red belt. “Around my waist is a belt that now matches your own, fueled by the powers that Chapman forcibly extracted from you. So brace yourself for a fair fight, Princess, and know in advance that I will crush you!” Wonder Woman is visibly rattled by this report and circles Talia warily; the superheroine is unsteady and unsure of herself for the first time since entering the warehouse. The mob guys watch on as spectators, spellbound by what’s unfolding and respectful of Talia’s insistence that this proceed as a fair fight, one on-one.
After a tense stand-off, Wonder Woman throws and lands the first punch — a hard, lighting-fast, lunging right that catches Talia flush on the jaw. Talia wipes her mouth, spits blood, and smiles gamely. Wonder Woman then repeats the same punch, but this time Talia ducks and counters with a right to Wonder Woman’s midsection, which doubles her over. Then Talia follows up with a spinning roundhouse kick that catches the side of Wonder Woman’s head and sends her stumbling to the ground; the crowd marvels and cheers at seeing Wonder Woman knocked off her feet in single combat. As Talia leaps at Wonder Woman, Wonder Woman presses both her toned, athletic arms behind her so that she springs off the ground into a dazzling backwards somersault. But Talia responds in kind by springing upwards and forwards onto Wonder Woman mid-air, who then rolls so that she lands atop a grounded Talia, effectively reversing their positions and emerging on top
Straddling Talia, Wonder Woman grabs Talia’s arms to establish control and says, “Sister, we shouldn’t be fighting for these men’s enjoyment. It’s beneath you to do the bidding of the likes of Falcone.” Talia hisses from underneath Wonder Woman: “You have it backwards, Diana. These men are serving MY ends more than I’m serving theirs.” With impressive precision and speed, Talia then scissors her legs around Wonder Woman’s head and right arm, constricting and catching her in a tight triangle vice; Wonder Woman struggles against the hold and tries to rise but Talia’s strength and technique are too much for her and Wonder Woman finds herself in trouble as her circulation and energy ebb. Talia then easily rolls Wonder Woman over and begins raining punches down on her, one after another, with impossible speed and force, each landing heavily. A bloodied Wonder Woman has no answer and is fading as the pummeling continues. But Talia suddenly stops, stands up, and gestures for Wonder Woman to rise and reset. Incredibly, she appears to be toying with Wonder Woman, treating this as fun sport.
As Wonder Woman now rises on rubbery legs, blood trickles from her mouth and from the side of her left eye; her costume has become dusty and torn in spots. Talia looks fresh by comparison and explains how she’s been hungering for her revenge, consumed by it, and thinking of nothing else. “You always try to see the good, Princess, but you should see me with clear eyes before I close them forever: I am here as your destroyer. After all my training, I know exactly what you’ll do before you yourself do. I’ve been craving this opportunity and waiting for it to arrive until Falcone served you to me on a platter; now, at last, it’s time for you to feel the full wrath of the al Ghuls and have rich debts repaid.” Wonder Woman absorbs all this with mounting dread, until she senses a possible opening and successfully dives at Talia’s legs, at which point the two women roll over and over one another on the ground, with neither able to gain control. As they rise to their feet, still entangled, Wonder Woman expertly twists, takes Talia off balance, and throws Talia over her shoulder. Even as Talia lands on her back, she kicks upwards from the ground in a fluid, graceful motion and lands her kick directly underneath Wonder Woman’s chin, stunning her. Talia then whirls around and pulls Wonder Woman’s legs out from under her, so that it is Wonder Woman’s turn to fall — only now Talia has regained her footing and positioned herself behind Wonder Woman. While Wonder Woman struggles to her feet, Talia stands behind her and sinks her arms into a deep, deadly choke hold around Wonder Woman’s neck. Wonder Woman struggles frantically to push away Talia’s hands, peel away her fingers, scratch upwards and behind her at Talia’s face, but nothing works. Could this be the end for Wonder Woman?!
Wonder Woman’s legs are writhing and her head is shaking back and forth, to no avail, as Talia retains her choke; Wonder Woman’s breath is cut off, her will and ability to fight are dissipating, her arms are falling to her sides. Blood is flowing and smearing across Wonder Woman’s face, coating her beautiful features in crimson. Although she appeared indomitable in defeating wave after wave of Falcone’s would-be assassins a short time earlier, she is now exuding weakness, fragility, helplessness in the face of Talia’s onslaught. To add insult to injury, Talia now slightly relaxes her right arm while releasing her left arm so that she can fondle Wonder Woman’s incredible breast through her brassiere. Secure in her control, Talia traces the shape of Wonder Woman’s perfect breasts while cooing and gasping with palpable sexual gratification; she visibly and audibly craves this aspect of the combatants’ reunion. And Wonder Woman, too, is warming to these touches. On her last legs, Wonder Woman is — to her own surprise and horror — half-surrendering, even welcoming, this amorous phase of Talia’s assault. Stimulation of her breasts has combined with deprivation of her oxygen to send Wonder Woman into delirium, where pain, pleasure, shame, and fulfillment blend together in a dizzying concoction. Wonder Woman finds herself giving in: she uses the remnants of her energy to thrust her chest into Talia’s hungering hand.
The crowd watches with tongues practically wagging while Wonder Woman simultaneously basks in the caress of Talia’s left arm and fades towards blackness against the constriction of Talia’s right arm. Nothing can save Wonder Woman from impending, inglorious death. Just as Wonder Woman’s eyes are closing, never again to open, Talia suddenly lifts her arms above her head in exaggerated fashion, releasing her choke hold and ending her petting session. Talia watches with glee as Wonder Woman simply slides to the ground, where she now lies panting on her stomach, perfect glutes generously displayed.
Talia pauses with her arms crossed, waiting and willing her opponent to recover so that their increasingly lopsided match can resume. As Wonder Woman struggles to rise, groggily, Talia grows impatient and taunts her. “Sister, I’m saddened to see you so complacent. You’ve grown too dependent upon your celestial gifts. I’d hoped you could show me more of the fabled Amazon fighting techniques, but all you’re showing us today are different ways to fall.” Talia laughs cruelly at her once formidable foe. She kicks down on Wonder Woman’s back, returning her opponent flat to the ground. Now as Wonder Woman struggles awkwardly to rise, she gets to her knees and elbows, leaving her derriere in an especially compromised position in front of prying, predatory eyes. Guys are pointing and are hooting and hollering with glee. Talia remarks, “Now THIS is beneath YOU. I thought you were above pandering to these men, yet here you are posing for them.”
That incenses Wonder Woman, who quickly completes the climb back to her feet and bravely stands to face Talia once more. As she stands, unsteadily, Wonder Woman is vastly diminished. Her shredded costume exposes much more of her tanned flesh than it should; she is dusty and bloodied; and much of her superb body is scratched, bruised and dusty. But she still continues to fight valiantly, summoning all her remaining strength.
Wonder Woman seizes the initiative by throwing the best punch she can, but it’s much slower than before and Talia catches it mid-air, holds Wonder Woman’s fist, and sends a vicious left elbow into Wonder Woman’s right temple, leaving her more dizzied than ever. Talia declares: “I’ve come here as Falcone’s champion, and I’ve come to fell you for him.” Now the fight is all Talia’s, as everyone watches in awe. Talia lands a flurry of punches that Wonder Woman feebly tries to block, without success. As Wonder Woman falls back into the surrounding circle, one man takes the opportunity to put her in a choke hold and another grabs at her belt but Talia stops them cold by yelling: “She’s all mine and I will take all of her. Leave her precious belt so she can fall with her power intact, knowing I was too much for her.” So the men shove Wonder Woman back to Talia at the center of the circle, and Talia head-buts her with stunning force, leaving Wonder Woman holding her bloodied forehead in agony. Talia then throws a straight, hard right into Wonder Woman’s throat, which leaves the superheroine clutching her throat and sinking to her knees. From there, Talia brings a knee up straight to Wonder Woman’s chin, at which point Wonder Woman ls rendered senseless and pitches forward to the ground. Talia stomps Wonder Woman’s head and kicks her in the stomach, without any response from Wonder Woman other than a soft, pitiful, sustained moan, “Oooooooohhhhhhhhhhh.” Then Wonder Woman lies silent, still and prone on her stomach, as the lecherous crowd continues to gawk at her.
Talia stares down at her opponent and again waits patiently for her to recover. But Wonder Woman’s wonders have their limits, and she’s already been pushed well beyond them. Shreds of her costume aside, nothing heroic remains of the heroine, who’s been reduced to bloody shambles. All Wonder Woman can do now is slowly, laboriously drag herself to her knees. There she teeters from side to side before Talia, struggling to maintain balance, with her head bowed and her hands resting on her knees as she heaves in a protracted struggle to recover her breath. Unable to meet Talia’s searing gaze, Wonder Woman’s bowed head looks straight down at the ground. Although Wonder Woman is too proud to plead, the animal kingdom would well recognize her body language as plaintive, submissive, docile.
Standing over her, Talia rejects and derides any gesture towards surrender. “No, no, no, my dear. Having awaited our reunion for so long, I cannot bear to see it end so quickly. Come, sister, let us embrace.” Talia then wrenches Wonder Woman up from her knees by her hair. As she does, Wonder Woman’s tiara slips to the ground and lands with a telling, sobering clatter. Talia pulls Wonder Woman into her grasp. There the bloodied, dusty, feeble Wonder Woman leans on Talia, out on her feet, with much of her costume shredded by the fierce fighting. Talia’s “embrace” becomes a crushing bearhug, one that Talia uses to squeeze the remaining life from her foe. Along the way, Talia bends and contorts Wonder Woman’s amazing figure at her whim in order to push her nemesis towards deepening depths of humiliation and despair in front of the leering crowd.
While administering her crushing embrace, Talia bounces Wonder Woman this way and that way so as to cajole her breasts upwards and outwards from her brassiere; she bends Wonder Woman backwards to the point that her nipples nearly break free from her gilded brassiere; she lunges between Wonder Woman’s supple legs and spreads them until the mound of the heroine’s vagina scrapes her own. Their body positions continually shift and evolve but Talia carefully choreographs each pose at Wonder Woman’s expense — to stifle her breathing while maximizing her degradation. As Wonder Woman suffocates under her savage grip, Talia grows more and more euphoric.
The higher Tali’s spirits soar, the tighter she squeezes and the further Wonder Woman fades. Triumphing in all respects, Talia pulses with newfound energy and zest. Even as Wonder Woman slips away, she cannot help but appreciate Talia’s beauty, her prowess, her fierceness.— nor can Wonder Woman ignore the artful and occasionally tender stimulation Talia is administering. Wonder Woman’s dimming faculties again succumb to desire, making Wonder Woman a semi-equal partner is what’s becoming sexual congress. Talia heaves her breasts into Wonder Woman’s as the two women wrap together, bosom to bosom — clashing, sliding and rubbing against one another’s scantily-covered, pert breasts. And as Talia arcs her hips into Wonder Woman’s, Wonder Woman responds in kind, so they are now rubbing groin to groin, with their most private parts grinding, gyrating, entwining through the thin, taut, fraying fabric of their skintight costumes. Talia’s black spandex presses, rubs, strains implacably against the thin, delicate, blue strip of Wonder Woman’s lower briefs. Combat temporarily gives way to dry-humping until wetness stains both women’s nether regions and their clits swell towards full engorgement. Flush with power, dominance, and gratification, Talia moans aloud in unbridled ecstasy, building towards an orgasm, while Wonder Woman’s disjointed thoughts again swirl between pain, pleasure, shame, and sexual release. As she climaxes, Talia’s eyes close for the first time, she relaxes her bearhug, and she emits a proud, triumphant yell. Wonder Woman can respond only with a soft, short moan, after which she’s left gasping in Talia’s arms as she struggles desperately to recover the air she’s been denied.
Alas, theirs is ultimately a zero-sum contest. The higher Talia has soared, the lower Wonder Woman has sunk. Fleeting gratification aside, Wonder Woman can no more partake ofTalia’s triumph than mice can flourish from playing with cats. As sexual frenzy subsides, Talia returns to her deadly business with single-minded purpose and resumes squeezing with all her might. The once-heroic Wonder Woman is increasingly victimized by Talia’s grasp, falling deathly silent and still; her eyes go from glazed, to fluttering, to closed; her beautiful head lolls lifelessly onto Talia’s shoulder. Thanks to Talia, Wonder Woman’s brassiere has become further frayed and is separating from the rest of her costume — with her midriff now laid entirely bare and her ample breasts nearly billowing out. Yet Wonder Woman has fallen beyond embarrassment simply because she has lost consciousness. Her once mighty breaths have become faint and raspy; they fall fewer and further between. By all indications, she is breathing her last gasps in Talia’s vicious, unrelenting grasp. The entire audience is speechless at this point, with everyone riveted by the scene and wishing they could trade places with Talia. Truly, the end draws nigh for Wonder Woman as her oxygen reserve drops lower and lower and she slips further and further towards eternal sleep. This time Talia is not granting quarter. This time, it would seem, Wonder Woman has truly met her end . . .
. . . Facing Wonder Woman is her old arch-nemesis, Talia al Ghul, whom Wonder Woman had last left imprisoned on Paradise Island under guard by the Amazons, after sending Ra al Gaul, Talia’s father, scurrying into retreat and obscurity. A ring of Falcone’s mob heavies encircle the two women in what appears to be an arena; among the observers are Falcone himself, Vinny, Junior, and Tommy. Talia is clad in a skin-tight, black, spandex bodysuit, adorned only by a blood-red belt around her waist; black, steel-toed boots run all the way up her shapely calves. Talia’s dark beauty and lithe, toned physique are second only to those of Wonder Woman herself. If anything, Talia’s musculature is somewhat more pronounced as compared to her counterpart’s, reflecting just how intensively she’s been training for this encounter.
Talia eyes Wonder Woman as prey, while Wonder Woman shows surprise at the match-up, saying, “Talia, I thought our feud was behind us and you were on a brighter path.” Talia responds: “Far from it. As long as you draw breath, Amazon, our feud persists and I’ll never stray from exacting my revenge. Happily, today brings us to our rightful conclusion. Be warned that I’ve been preparing for this day since last we met, studying your every technique and learning how to counter each. Of course, there still remained the problem of your divine powers, which I could never match — that is, until I found a Professor Chapman, who offered me a rather remarkable innovation for an exorbitant sum.” Talia taps her red belt. “Around my waist is a belt that now matches your own, fueled by the powers that Chapman forcibly extracted from you. So brace yourself for a fair fight, Princess, and know in advance that I will crush you!” Wonder Woman is visibly rattled by this report and circles Talia warily; the superheroine is unsteady and unsure of herself for the first time since entering the warehouse. The mob guys watch on as spectators, spellbound by what’s unfolding and respectful of Talia’s insistence that this proceed as a fair fight, one on-one.
After a tense stand-off, Wonder Woman throws and lands the first punch — a hard, lighting-fast, lunging right that catches Talia flush on the jaw. Talia wipes her mouth, spits blood, and smiles gamely. Wonder Woman then repeats the same punch, but this time Talia ducks and counters with a right to Wonder Woman’s midsection, which doubles her over. Then Talia follows up with a spinning roundhouse kick that catches the side of Wonder Woman’s head and sends her stumbling to the ground; the crowd marvels and cheers at seeing Wonder Woman knocked off her feet in single combat. As Talia leaps at Wonder Woman, Wonder Woman presses both her toned, athletic arms behind her so that she springs off the ground into a dazzling backwards somersault. But Talia responds in kind by springing upwards and forwards onto Wonder Woman mid-air, who then rolls so that she lands atop a grounded Talia, effectively reversing their positions and emerging on top
Straddling Talia, Wonder Woman grabs Talia’s arms to establish control and says, “Sister, we shouldn’t be fighting for these men’s enjoyment. It’s beneath you to do the bidding of the likes of Falcone.” Talia hisses from underneath Wonder Woman: “You have it backwards, Diana. These men are serving MY ends more than I’m serving theirs.” With impressive precision and speed, Talia then scissors her legs around Wonder Woman’s head and right arm, constricting and catching her in a tight triangle vice; Wonder Woman struggles against the hold and tries to rise but Talia’s strength and technique are too much for her and Wonder Woman finds herself in trouble as her circulation and energy ebb. Talia then easily rolls Wonder Woman over and begins raining punches down on her, one after another, with impossible speed and force, each landing heavily. A bloodied Wonder Woman has no answer and is fading as the pummeling continues. But Talia suddenly stops, stands up, and gestures for Wonder Woman to rise and reset. Incredibly, she appears to be toying with Wonder Woman, treating this as fun sport.
As Wonder Woman now rises on rubbery legs, blood trickles from her mouth and from the side of her left eye; her costume has become dusty and torn in spots. Talia looks fresh by comparison and explains how she’s been hungering for her revenge, consumed by it, and thinking of nothing else. “You always try to see the good, Princess, but you should see me with clear eyes before I close them forever: I am here as your destroyer. After all my training, I know exactly what you’ll do before you yourself do. I’ve been craving this opportunity and waiting for it to arrive until Falcone served you to me on a platter; now, at last, it’s time for you to feel the full wrath of the al Ghuls and have rich debts repaid.” Wonder Woman absorbs all this with mounting dread, until she senses a possible opening and successfully dives at Talia’s legs, at which point the two women roll over and over one another on the ground, with neither able to gain control. As they rise to their feet, still entangled, Wonder Woman expertly twists, takes Talia off balance, and throws Talia over her shoulder. Even as Talia lands on her back, she kicks upwards from the ground in a fluid, graceful motion and lands her kick directly underneath Wonder Woman’s chin, stunning her. Talia then whirls around and pulls Wonder Woman’s legs out from under her, so that it is Wonder Woman’s turn to fall — only now Talia has regained her footing and positioned herself behind Wonder Woman. While Wonder Woman struggles to her feet, Talia stands behind her and sinks her arms into a deep, deadly choke hold around Wonder Woman’s neck. Wonder Woman struggles frantically to push away Talia’s hands, peel away her fingers, scratch upwards and behind her at Talia’s face, but nothing works. Could this be the end for Wonder Woman?!
Wonder Woman’s legs are writhing and her head is shaking back and forth, to no avail, as Talia retains her choke; Wonder Woman’s breath is cut off, her will and ability to fight are dissipating, her arms are falling to her sides. Blood is flowing and smearing across Wonder Woman’s face, coating her beautiful features in crimson. Although she appeared indomitable in defeating wave after wave of Falcone’s would-be assassins a short time earlier, she is now exuding weakness, fragility, helplessness in the face of Talia’s onslaught. To add insult to injury, Talia now slightly relaxes her right arm while releasing her left arm so that she can fondle Wonder Woman’s incredible breast through her brassiere. Secure in her control, Talia traces the shape of Wonder Woman’s perfect breasts while cooing and gasping with palpable sexual gratification; she visibly and audibly craves this aspect of the combatants’ reunion. And Wonder Woman, too, is warming to these touches. On her last legs, Wonder Woman is — to her own surprise and horror — half-surrendering, even welcoming, this amorous phase of Talia’s assault. Stimulation of her breasts has combined with deprivation of her oxygen to send Wonder Woman into delirium, where pain, pleasure, shame, and fulfillment blend together in a dizzying concoction. Wonder Woman finds herself giving in: she uses the remnants of her energy to thrust her chest into Talia’s hungering hand.
The crowd watches with tongues practically wagging while Wonder Woman simultaneously basks in the caress of Talia’s left arm and fades towards blackness against the constriction of Talia’s right arm. Nothing can save Wonder Woman from impending, inglorious death. Just as Wonder Woman’s eyes are closing, never again to open, Talia suddenly lifts her arms above her head in exaggerated fashion, releasing her choke hold and ending her petting session. Talia watches with glee as Wonder Woman simply slides to the ground, where she now lies panting on her stomach, perfect glutes generously displayed.
Talia pauses with her arms crossed, waiting and willing her opponent to recover so that their increasingly lopsided match can resume. As Wonder Woman struggles to rise, groggily, Talia grows impatient and taunts her. “Sister, I’m saddened to see you so complacent. You’ve grown too dependent upon your celestial gifts. I’d hoped you could show me more of the fabled Amazon fighting techniques, but all you’re showing us today are different ways to fall.” Talia laughs cruelly at her once formidable foe. She kicks down on Wonder Woman’s back, returning her opponent flat to the ground. Now as Wonder Woman struggles awkwardly to rise, she gets to her knees and elbows, leaving her derriere in an especially compromised position in front of prying, predatory eyes. Guys are pointing and are hooting and hollering with glee. Talia remarks, “Now THIS is beneath YOU. I thought you were above pandering to these men, yet here you are posing for them.”
That incenses Wonder Woman, who quickly completes the climb back to her feet and bravely stands to face Talia once more. As she stands, unsteadily, Wonder Woman is vastly diminished. Her shredded costume exposes much more of her tanned flesh than it should; she is dusty and bloodied; and much of her superb body is scratched, bruised and dusty. But she still continues to fight valiantly, summoning all her remaining strength.
Wonder Woman seizes the initiative by throwing the best punch she can, but it’s much slower than before and Talia catches it mid-air, holds Wonder Woman’s fist, and sends a vicious left elbow into Wonder Woman’s right temple, leaving her more dizzied than ever. Talia declares: “I’ve come here as Falcone’s champion, and I’ve come to fell you for him.” Now the fight is all Talia’s, as everyone watches in awe. Talia lands a flurry of punches that Wonder Woman feebly tries to block, without success. As Wonder Woman falls back into the surrounding circle, one man takes the opportunity to put her in a choke hold and another grabs at her belt but Talia stops them cold by yelling: “She’s all mine and I will take all of her. Leave her precious belt so she can fall with her power intact, knowing I was too much for her.” So the men shove Wonder Woman back to Talia at the center of the circle, and Talia head-buts her with stunning force, leaving Wonder Woman holding her bloodied forehead in agony. Talia then throws a straight, hard right into Wonder Woman’s throat, which leaves the superheroine clutching her throat and sinking to her knees. From there, Talia brings a knee up straight to Wonder Woman’s chin, at which point Wonder Woman ls rendered senseless and pitches forward to the ground. Talia stomps Wonder Woman’s head and kicks her in the stomach, without any response from Wonder Woman other than a soft, pitiful, sustained moan, “Oooooooohhhhhhhhhhh.” Then Wonder Woman lies silent, still and prone on her stomach, as the lecherous crowd continues to gawk at her.
Talia stares down at her opponent and again waits patiently for her to recover. But Wonder Woman’s wonders have their limits, and she’s already been pushed well beyond them. Shreds of her costume aside, nothing heroic remains of the heroine, who’s been reduced to bloody shambles. All Wonder Woman can do now is slowly, laboriously drag herself to her knees. There she teeters from side to side before Talia, struggling to maintain balance, with her head bowed and her hands resting on her knees as she heaves in a protracted struggle to recover her breath. Unable to meet Talia’s searing gaze, Wonder Woman’s bowed head looks straight down at the ground. Although Wonder Woman is too proud to plead, the animal kingdom would well recognize her body language as plaintive, submissive, docile.
Standing over her, Talia rejects and derides any gesture towards surrender. “No, no, no, my dear. Having awaited our reunion for so long, I cannot bear to see it end so quickly. Come, sister, let us embrace.” Talia then wrenches Wonder Woman up from her knees by her hair. As she does, Wonder Woman’s tiara slips to the ground and lands with a telling, sobering clatter. Talia pulls Wonder Woman into her grasp. There the bloodied, dusty, feeble Wonder Woman leans on Talia, out on her feet, with much of her costume shredded by the fierce fighting. Talia’s “embrace” becomes a crushing bearhug, one that Talia uses to squeeze the remaining life from her foe. Along the way, Talia bends and contorts Wonder Woman’s amazing figure at her whim in order to push her nemesis towards deepening depths of humiliation and despair in front of the leering crowd.
While administering her crushing embrace, Talia bounces Wonder Woman this way and that way so as to cajole her breasts upwards and outwards from her brassiere; she bends Wonder Woman backwards to the point that her nipples nearly break free from her gilded brassiere; she lunges between Wonder Woman’s supple legs and spreads them until the mound of the heroine’s vagina scrapes her own. Their body positions continually shift and evolve but Talia carefully choreographs each pose at Wonder Woman’s expense — to stifle her breathing while maximizing her degradation. As Wonder Woman suffocates under her savage grip, Talia grows more and more euphoric.
The higher Tali’s spirits soar, the tighter she squeezes and the further Wonder Woman fades. Triumphing in all respects, Talia pulses with newfound energy and zest. Even as Wonder Woman slips away, she cannot help but appreciate Talia’s beauty, her prowess, her fierceness.— nor can Wonder Woman ignore the artful and occasionally tender stimulation Talia is administering. Wonder Woman’s dimming faculties again succumb to desire, making Wonder Woman a semi-equal partner is what’s becoming sexual congress. Talia heaves her breasts into Wonder Woman’s as the two women wrap together, bosom to bosom — clashing, sliding and rubbing against one another’s scantily-covered, pert breasts. And as Talia arcs her hips into Wonder Woman’s, Wonder Woman responds in kind, so they are now rubbing groin to groin, with their most private parts grinding, gyrating, entwining through the thin, taut, fraying fabric of their skintight costumes. Talia’s black spandex presses, rubs, strains implacably against the thin, delicate, blue strip of Wonder Woman’s lower briefs. Combat temporarily gives way to dry-humping until wetness stains both women’s nether regions and their clits swell towards full engorgement. Flush with power, dominance, and gratification, Talia moans aloud in unbridled ecstasy, building towards an orgasm, while Wonder Woman’s disjointed thoughts again swirl between pain, pleasure, shame, and sexual release. As she climaxes, Talia’s eyes close for the first time, she relaxes her bearhug, and she emits a proud, triumphant yell. Wonder Woman can respond only with a soft, short moan, after which she’s left gasping in Talia’s arms as she struggles desperately to recover the air she’s been denied.
Alas, theirs is ultimately a zero-sum contest. The higher Talia has soared, the lower Wonder Woman has sunk. Fleeting gratification aside, Wonder Woman can no more partake ofTalia’s triumph than mice can flourish from playing with cats. As sexual frenzy subsides, Talia returns to her deadly business with single-minded purpose and resumes squeezing with all her might. The once-heroic Wonder Woman is increasingly victimized by Talia’s grasp, falling deathly silent and still; her eyes go from glazed, to fluttering, to closed; her beautiful head lolls lifelessly onto Talia’s shoulder. Thanks to Talia, Wonder Woman’s brassiere has become further frayed and is separating from the rest of her costume — with her midriff now laid entirely bare and her ample breasts nearly billowing out. Yet Wonder Woman has fallen beyond embarrassment simply because she has lost consciousness. Her once mighty breaths have become faint and raspy; they fall fewer and further between. By all indications, she is breathing her last gasps in Talia’s vicious, unrelenting grasp. The entire audience is speechless at this point, with everyone riveted by the scene and wishing they could trade places with Talia. Truly, the end draws nigh for Wonder Woman as her oxygen reserve drops lower and lower and she slips further and further towards eternal sleep. This time Talia is not granting quarter. This time, it would seem, Wonder Woman has truly met her end . . .
(III. THE CONTRACT, continued and concluded)
. . . Vinny suddenly intercedes by tugging on Talia’s shoulder. He reminds Talia that the contract pays more for Wonder Woman alive than dead, and that each component of Wonder Woman’s iconic costume should be preserved so it can fetch its own price. Talia at that point regains her composure and refrains from doing her worst. Instead, she releases Wonder Woman, who collapses straight to the ground, where she lies motionless and supine on her back. Talia gently nudges her fallen opponent with her foot, without any effect, but keeps at it and at it until, at last, Wonder Woman faintly stirs. Talia bends down to deliver a message, saying “Falcone wanted me to remind you that you were warned.” Wonder Woman grimaces at the memory, struggles back to her knees, wipes blood from her face, and tries to speak, but manages only to croak. She raises her hand to Talia, as if to say “wait,” and gathers herself again, trying to regain some semblance of dignity, or at least the ability to form her last words to Talia. Then she whispers something nearly inaudible, which Talia bends low to hear. As Talia processes whatever she’s heard, she softens momentarily — but her expression then hardens into steely resolve and she kicks Wonder Woman contemptuously in the chest, laying her flat on her back once again, where Wonder Woman now lies utterly prone, motionless, vanquished.
Talia addresses her fallen opponent once more: “In another life, you and I might find another path together, Diana In this one, however, our road together ends here, while yours sends you tumbling forward alone into a putrid abyss. Because you’ve proved unworthy of your laurels, I’ll not gift you an Amazon warrior’s swift and glorious death in combat. Falcone’s blood money has little to do with that; it’s mere icing on the cake for me. Indeed, I already spent much of my family fortune on Chapman’s remarkable accessory (she points to her red belt) and it was the best money I ever spent. What matters most is that I can count on Falcone, in all his filth, to deliver a darker, danker fate than I could ever visit upon you. This is goodbye and goodnight, Princess,” at which point Talia lifts Wonder Woman up to her wobbly feet one last time to plant a savage kiss on Wonder Woman’s lips. Talia thrusts her tongue deep into Wonder Woman’s mouth and presses it atop Wonder Woman’s tongue, which yields as Talia pins it against the wet mat of Wonder Woman’s mouth, planting the al Ghul flag on that tender terrain. Talia continues to lock lips and tongues for an extended, heart-pounding stretch, savoring Wonder Woman’s blood and saliva and swapping it with her own. When Talia finally withdraws, she bites down hard snd sinks her teeth into Wonder Woman’s lower lip, then tugs longingly at it, leaving her mark there too as she pulls her head away. While still holding the sagging Wonder Woman barely upright, Talia whirls and plays to to the gawking audience, proclaiming jubilantly, “The taste of this one’s defeat is ever so sweet!” The crows cheers.
Following the mouth-to-mouth pleasantries, Talia concludes her farewell with a final coup de grace: She kneels with one leg bent in front and one bent behind her, and curls Wonder Woman’s helpless form over her front knee, face-up, with Wonder Woman only barely conscious and her head lolling down; Talia lifts both her arms over her head, clasps her hands together, and brings her interlocked fists chopping down like an axe with maximum force — in a precise, practiced motion — straight into Wonder Woman’s exposed solar plexus. The effect is instantaneous and devastating. All remaining oxygen is expelled from Wonder Woman’s body, immeasurable internal trauma ripples across her, and her nervous system shuts down. Wonder Woman convulses and coughs up bloody spittle before passing out cold, at which point Talia releases her to the ground with a sickening thud. As an afterthought, Talia nonchalantly reaches down and unfastens Wonder Woman’s famed belt, which Talia tosses to Falcone saying, “I’ve removed this free of charge. You’ll have an easier time with her stripped of it.”
With a casual but powerful forward thrust of her right foot, Talia kicks Wonder Woman as though she were a soccer ball, so that her unconscious body rolls over and over, barrel-like, until finally coming to a rest at Falcone’s feet. Talia says, “Contract’s fulfilled. I’ve delivered her broken yet alive. She’s all yours now, and I trust you’ll take terrible care of her. You have my wiring instructions, correct?” Falcone nods that he does, looks down at Wonder Woman’s supine form, and gently lifts her head with his foot, then takes his time putting on his eyeglasses so he can better admire Talia’s bloody handiwork: Looking down at the humbled, de-powered heroine, he sees that her luscious, raven-black hair is matted by blood, sweat and dust; a ghastly, blood-red mask coats her face; her formerly piercing eyes are tightly shut; her features are frozen in pain; her iconic costume is in tatters; her bared midriff marks the site of her deepest wound; further down, her starred briefs are badly frayed and wet. She is indeed now entirely his, to do with as he pleases. Wonder Woman no longer poses the slightest threat to Falcone or anyone else; his sole concern now is whether she will ever reopen her eyes, and when. Falcone smiles appreciatively at Talia. “Job’s well done. It’s good to see someone who so excels at her work, and who so clearly enjoys it.” Talia nods in acknowledgement, spins around and exits the scene as the exultant victor, leaving Wonder Woman doomed.
One of the guys confirms that Wonder Woman retains a faint pulse even without her belt. He gives her a thoroughgoing, professional frisking, reaching under her costume to remove a tracking device, which he then smashes on the ground.
Whereas most of the civilized world would recoil from the appalling spectacle of Wonder Woman lying there thoroughly bested, bloodied and battered, Falcone’s crew responds with cheers and high-fives. For them, the only thing better than having Wonder Woman taken down for them, at last, has been getting front-row seats to enjoy witnessing her downfall firsthand. What they’ve just seen has left them incredulous, jubilant, and lustful; they congratulate one another. “I can’t believe the Boss actually pulled it off it.” “We just took down a Goddess.” “I dunno whether that was a cage fight, a sex show, or both, but Wonder Woman friggin’ lost, ammm-III-riiight?” Junior laughs and says, “That chick just beat the ‘wonder’ out of the Wonder Woman, for sure.”
Vinny, in contrast, looks ashen-faced and deeply concerned about what he’s just witnessed. He asks Falcone, “Should we get her to a doctor? She’s in bad shape and we can’t be selling damaged goods.”
Falcone shakes his head “no” to Vinny and reminds everyone that time is short;: “Fellas, there’s no time to linger and gawk. Just wrap up our cargo and scram before cavalry arrives. We’ll have plenty of time to clean her up and get her camera-ready once we reach the hide-out” As the gang closes up shop and awakens their downed contractors, guys grab a closer look at the fallen Wonder Woman and closely study her curves, as now better revealed to them than ever before. A couple of guys are daring enough to follow Talia’s lead by fondling Wonder Woman through the shreds of her brassiere, confirming her breasts feel every bit as sensational as they look. But everyone knows they can go only so far. While Junior can’t stop grinning, he keeps the crew in check by reminding them that their captive will fetch them a fortune and that anyone who screws it up will answer to Falcone himself.
Exiting the warehouse, Nick (the same thug whom Wonder Woman sent through the window) now giddily folds her helpless, unconscious form over his right shoulder, like a sack, with her head and arms dangling limply down his back and her tattered costume leaving her all the more exposed before him. As her tight, shapely ass dangles in front of him, he seizes the opportunity to grope it freely at every step, without conscience or any other constraint dampening his enjoyment. He quips aloud to her, “Not such a grand exit for you this time, is it, Missy? You’ll have no trouble finding a bed at our next stop. After that, we’ll see who wants to do what with you, but I doubt you’ll be lucky enough to score a trip to the beach.” He chuckles as he unceremoniously dumps Wonder Woman into the back of a nondescript van, and her head strikes the metal floor with an echoing clang.
Somewhere in the background, sirens sound and police cars at last approach approach the warehouse, but it’s too late. The get-away van is already speeding away towards the auction site with Falcone’s prized bounty safely stashed in the back. Wonder Woman lies comatose, powerless, and grievously injured, yet she remains mesmerizing, alluring and valuable as ever.
. . . Vinny suddenly intercedes by tugging on Talia’s shoulder. He reminds Talia that the contract pays more for Wonder Woman alive than dead, and that each component of Wonder Woman’s iconic costume should be preserved so it can fetch its own price. Talia at that point regains her composure and refrains from doing her worst. Instead, she releases Wonder Woman, who collapses straight to the ground, where she lies motionless and supine on her back. Talia gently nudges her fallen opponent with her foot, without any effect, but keeps at it and at it until, at last, Wonder Woman faintly stirs. Talia bends down to deliver a message, saying “Falcone wanted me to remind you that you were warned.” Wonder Woman grimaces at the memory, struggles back to her knees, wipes blood from her face, and tries to speak, but manages only to croak. She raises her hand to Talia, as if to say “wait,” and gathers herself again, trying to regain some semblance of dignity, or at least the ability to form her last words to Talia. Then she whispers something nearly inaudible, which Talia bends low to hear. As Talia processes whatever she’s heard, she softens momentarily — but her expression then hardens into steely resolve and she kicks Wonder Woman contemptuously in the chest, laying her flat on her back once again, where Wonder Woman now lies utterly prone, motionless, vanquished.
Talia addresses her fallen opponent once more: “In another life, you and I might find another path together, Diana In this one, however, our road together ends here, while yours sends you tumbling forward alone into a putrid abyss. Because you’ve proved unworthy of your laurels, I’ll not gift you an Amazon warrior’s swift and glorious death in combat. Falcone’s blood money has little to do with that; it’s mere icing on the cake for me. Indeed, I already spent much of my family fortune on Chapman’s remarkable accessory (she points to her red belt) and it was the best money I ever spent. What matters most is that I can count on Falcone, in all his filth, to deliver a darker, danker fate than I could ever visit upon you. This is goodbye and goodnight, Princess,” at which point Talia lifts Wonder Woman up to her wobbly feet one last time to plant a savage kiss on Wonder Woman’s lips. Talia thrusts her tongue deep into Wonder Woman’s mouth and presses it atop Wonder Woman’s tongue, which yields as Talia pins it against the wet mat of Wonder Woman’s mouth, planting the al Ghul flag on that tender terrain. Talia continues to lock lips and tongues for an extended, heart-pounding stretch, savoring Wonder Woman’s blood and saliva and swapping it with her own. When Talia finally withdraws, she bites down hard snd sinks her teeth into Wonder Woman’s lower lip, then tugs longingly at it, leaving her mark there too as she pulls her head away. While still holding the sagging Wonder Woman barely upright, Talia whirls and plays to to the gawking audience, proclaiming jubilantly, “The taste of this one’s defeat is ever so sweet!” The crows cheers.
Following the mouth-to-mouth pleasantries, Talia concludes her farewell with a final coup de grace: She kneels with one leg bent in front and one bent behind her, and curls Wonder Woman’s helpless form over her front knee, face-up, with Wonder Woman only barely conscious and her head lolling down; Talia lifts both her arms over her head, clasps her hands together, and brings her interlocked fists chopping down like an axe with maximum force — in a precise, practiced motion — straight into Wonder Woman’s exposed solar plexus. The effect is instantaneous and devastating. All remaining oxygen is expelled from Wonder Woman’s body, immeasurable internal trauma ripples across her, and her nervous system shuts down. Wonder Woman convulses and coughs up bloody spittle before passing out cold, at which point Talia releases her to the ground with a sickening thud. As an afterthought, Talia nonchalantly reaches down and unfastens Wonder Woman’s famed belt, which Talia tosses to Falcone saying, “I’ve removed this free of charge. You’ll have an easier time with her stripped of it.”
With a casual but powerful forward thrust of her right foot, Talia kicks Wonder Woman as though she were a soccer ball, so that her unconscious body rolls over and over, barrel-like, until finally coming to a rest at Falcone’s feet. Talia says, “Contract’s fulfilled. I’ve delivered her broken yet alive. She’s all yours now, and I trust you’ll take terrible care of her. You have my wiring instructions, correct?” Falcone nods that he does, looks down at Wonder Woman’s supine form, and gently lifts her head with his foot, then takes his time putting on his eyeglasses so he can better admire Talia’s bloody handiwork: Looking down at the humbled, de-powered heroine, he sees that her luscious, raven-black hair is matted by blood, sweat and dust; a ghastly, blood-red mask coats her face; her formerly piercing eyes are tightly shut; her features are frozen in pain; her iconic costume is in tatters; her bared midriff marks the site of her deepest wound; further down, her starred briefs are badly frayed and wet. She is indeed now entirely his, to do with as he pleases. Wonder Woman no longer poses the slightest threat to Falcone or anyone else; his sole concern now is whether she will ever reopen her eyes, and when. Falcone smiles appreciatively at Talia. “Job’s well done. It’s good to see someone who so excels at her work, and who so clearly enjoys it.” Talia nods in acknowledgement, spins around and exits the scene as the exultant victor, leaving Wonder Woman doomed.
One of the guys confirms that Wonder Woman retains a faint pulse even without her belt. He gives her a thoroughgoing, professional frisking, reaching under her costume to remove a tracking device, which he then smashes on the ground.
Whereas most of the civilized world would recoil from the appalling spectacle of Wonder Woman lying there thoroughly bested, bloodied and battered, Falcone’s crew responds with cheers and high-fives. For them, the only thing better than having Wonder Woman taken down for them, at last, has been getting front-row seats to enjoy witnessing her downfall firsthand. What they’ve just seen has left them incredulous, jubilant, and lustful; they congratulate one another. “I can’t believe the Boss actually pulled it off it.” “We just took down a Goddess.” “I dunno whether that was a cage fight, a sex show, or both, but Wonder Woman friggin’ lost, ammm-III-riiight?” Junior laughs and says, “That chick just beat the ‘wonder’ out of the Wonder Woman, for sure.”
Vinny, in contrast, looks ashen-faced and deeply concerned about what he’s just witnessed. He asks Falcone, “Should we get her to a doctor? She’s in bad shape and we can’t be selling damaged goods.”
Falcone shakes his head “no” to Vinny and reminds everyone that time is short;: “Fellas, there’s no time to linger and gawk. Just wrap up our cargo and scram before cavalry arrives. We’ll have plenty of time to clean her up and get her camera-ready once we reach the hide-out” As the gang closes up shop and awakens their downed contractors, guys grab a closer look at the fallen Wonder Woman and closely study her curves, as now better revealed to them than ever before. A couple of guys are daring enough to follow Talia’s lead by fondling Wonder Woman through the shreds of her brassiere, confirming her breasts feel every bit as sensational as they look. But everyone knows they can go only so far. While Junior can’t stop grinning, he keeps the crew in check by reminding them that their captive will fetch them a fortune and that anyone who screws it up will answer to Falcone himself.
Exiting the warehouse, Nick (the same thug whom Wonder Woman sent through the window) now giddily folds her helpless, unconscious form over his right shoulder, like a sack, with her head and arms dangling limply down his back and her tattered costume leaving her all the more exposed before him. As her tight, shapely ass dangles in front of him, he seizes the opportunity to grope it freely at every step, without conscience or any other constraint dampening his enjoyment. He quips aloud to her, “Not such a grand exit for you this time, is it, Missy? You’ll have no trouble finding a bed at our next stop. After that, we’ll see who wants to do what with you, but I doubt you’ll be lucky enough to score a trip to the beach.” He chuckles as he unceremoniously dumps Wonder Woman into the back of a nondescript van, and her head strikes the metal floor with an echoing clang.
Somewhere in the background, sirens sound and police cars at last approach approach the warehouse, but it’s too late. The get-away van is already speeding away towards the auction site with Falcone’s prized bounty safely stashed in the back. Wonder Woman lies comatose, powerless, and grievously injured, yet she remains mesmerizing, alluring and valuable as ever.
This has been quite exciting and enjoyable so far.
IV. THE AUCTION
Back at IADC headquarters, IRAC is reporting to Trevor that the warehouse was deserted by the time IADC arrived, but showed signs of recent, intense fighting. Disturbingly, there’s no sign of Wonder Woman, who stopped communicating upon reaching the warehouse; continuing efforts to contact her have been unsuccessful. Worst of all, certain blood samples picked up from the scene show a match with Wonder Woman. Trevor looks deeply worried. IRAC makes one more observation: Criminal activity seems to have come to a complete halt The only activity they’ve observed involves distribution of some sort of closed-circuit video feet among the worst criminals and deepest pockets that IADC monitors. IRAC concludes: “One intercepted communication likens whatever’s happening to Super Bowl Sunday for the criminal underworld.” Trevor’s eyes go wide.
Meanwhile, Wonder Woman has been stretched out cold, lying on a basic cot. in desperate circumstances at the final, secret hide-out. No one’s seen fit to restrain her because she is so obviously and thoroughly incapacitated. Closed-circuit TV has been set up to broadcast the upcoming auction of her to interested bidders: mob families and a rogues’ gallery of villains, all participating via remote video feeds. Separate locations patch in Cheetah, Arthur Chapman (who watches with personal pride, thanks to his contribution), the Joker and Harley Quinn, Lex Luthor, Poison Ivy, other mob families, Russian oligarchs, Arab sheikhs, and more; even Circe is tuning in (without stooping actually to bid).
Before the broadcast begins, Wonder Woman lies stretched out off-camera, in a side room, on the cot. Her iconic costume remains in tatters but recognizable to all; she is badly injured and in worrisome condition as she finally starts regaining her senses. The goons around her have remained well behaved but they’ve continued to admire her supple body (the only part of her that remains undiminished), commenting crudely as they do. As she begins to stir, her every movement is labored and pained, reflecting that Talia has not only defeated her but beaten her within an inch of her life. Vinny has used a cloth to tenderly wipe blood from her face, explaining that will make her more marketable, and has even applied a couple of butterfly bandages to her forehead and left eye to stem the bleeding there. Vinny has also recovered her tiara and restored it to resting properly on her head — for aesthetics, he says.
As she she at last comes alert in front of Falcone, Vinny and Junior, Wonder Woman strains to sit up and just barely succeeds. Taking in her surroundings, Wonder Woman’s spirits sink still lower: By comparison to Talia, Falcone and his men are less deserving and more repugnant as they wield total dominion over her.
Falcone says to her, “It’s good to see you up. You’ve been out for a while and we started doubting whether you’d wake up. You two girls played awfully rough and you definitely got the worst of it. But it wasn’t all bad for you, was it?” Falcone grins as he nods at the vestigial wetness that still dot the stars on their captive’s shredded blue briefs. Wonder Woman has no rejoinder but meekly asks, “What . . . what is to become of me?” Falcone responds with a beats-me-type shrug, “Couldn’t guess. I’ve no clue who the highest bidder will be, let alone what they’ll want to do with, or to, you. What happens from here will be none of my business — and, at the end of the day, I’ve gotta focus on my family’s business” Wonder Woman summons enough energy to ask, “Does this moment fill you with pride, Carmine, does it crown your legacy? To add to your trail of corpses, you’ll wipe out my protection and prevent me from saving more lives, righting more wrongs?” . . trailing off into a whisper . . . . Falcone: “No, not at all, my dear. On the contrary, I find this a sad waste of beauty, power, valor — it’s what I’d hoped to avoid. I feel no joy seeing this play out as it must. But by making the choice you did, you left me with none.” Wonder Woman sinks back in fatigue, pain, resignation, despair. Seeing her slump, Falcone can’t resist twisting the knife: “Honey, my boys and I aren’t monsters. We’re gonna be nostalgic for all your impressive wrappings (he gestures up and down what remains of her costume). And we’ll be capturing this next bit on camera, so we can always remember you just the way you were.” Falcone’s cruel taunting dispels any ray of hope for Wonder Woman. A tear runs down her beautiful cheek.
Vinny can’t help but feel pity and be moved. He pulls Falcone aside and and confides in him. “Boss, maybe we can end this now and walk away, before it goes too far. You’ve already taught her all the lesson she needs. The last thing we want is more heat, and that’s what we’ll get if we follow through on the plan.” Falcone remains icy and determined, “No, Vin. That’s not an option. Unless we make an example of this one, the do-gooders will never stop coming for us. “ Vinny tries another tack: “So then how ‘bout letting the doc fix her up real quick, so we don’t wind up with a disappointed buyer?” Falcone shakes his head. “Drop it. There’s no time for that. Our friends are waiting. Just pull those band-aids off so she won’t look too banged up (he points to the two bandages Vinny applied).” Falcone continues: “This particular business is dangerous for us and it’s gotta end soon. We can’t waste time wondering what’ll happen to Wonder Woman. Now let’s get the bidding started . . . . ”
Wonder Woman has now been ported to a makeshift studio, where she sits helpless and restrained, with her hands and legs tied to a simple wooden chair, directly in front of the camera as the telecast begins: Standing next to her is a colorful auctioneer bedecked in a garish, red robe, a white-powdered wig, and a Venetian costume mask. He serves as the master of ceremonies and introduces the proceedings: “Today’s ultimate prize needs little introduction. We offer to you a one-of-a-kind, priceless collector’s item, revered and coveted around the world. Her Amazon lineage is peerless and of royal pedigree. You see that she’s somewhat the worse for wear but I can assure you that she remains intact in all the ways that might matter to you, and that she is absolutely exquisite to behold in person.” To embellish his point, the auctioneer slides his hand over Wonder Woman’s thigh; in response, she can only shoot him an outraged glare. The auctioneer makes an exaggerated show of pretending to tremble and feel faint: “Ladies and gentlemen, If looks could kill, I’d be stricken where I stand.” He drops the act: “Happily, we’ve nothing to fear from this one beyond angry stares.” He laughs. “But I digress. Let’s return to our important business. Through our secure link, we’ll be welcoming your bids, which we trust will be commensurate with the remarkable, unprecedented bounty on display today. Identities and locations of bidders will be kept in strictest confidence; the last and highest bid will be displayed on the screen so you all can dig deep and shoot high for each wondrous prize. Winners will be announced at the conclusion of this proceeding and secure means of exchange will be arranged immediately. As a precaution, we’ve already taken the liberty of removing our reluctant guest’s very special belt (here he holds high her golden belt, which glistens in the studio lights). Please be advised that whoever claims this particular trophy — magnificent in and of itself — regrettably won’t be eligible to bid for its former owner. The one must be forever parted from the other for the sake of everyone’s comfort and safety, per the prudent instruction of our unnamed sponsor.”
The auctioneer continues: “Still, you can now bear witness as we relieve our fallen foe of other treasured trinkets for which she no longer has use. These are all the genuine article and will be available for you to bid on, each in turn.” The camera zooms into close-up as the auctioneer first slides off Wonder Woman’s boots, taking his sweet time and caressing her legs as he does; Wonder Woman turns her head sideways and down, with eyes her closed and a pained expression on her face; try as she may, however, she cannot avoid the camera’s prying lens. Next he removes her bracelets; as he does, Wonder Woman tries to pull away her hands, straining in vain against the ropes that leave her tied snugly to the chair. Last, the auctioneer makes a great show of bending to examine her tiara. He says, “Although earlier events weren’t televised, numerous eyewitnesses can confirm that our former champ fell down and lost her crown . . .” He feigns a sad face and rubs his eyes with his hands as a crying child would. He resumes “. . . at the feet of someone who trounced her.” He laughs heartily at Wonder Woman’s expense. With that, he removes her tiara and trumpets it to the camera, while Wonder Woman’s head drops and she looks down at the floor in shame.
The auctioneer gets ready to wrap. “Well, that disposes of the accessories. We come now to our featured item. As to her, we can assure you that these are real, too.” Junior is now standing over Wonder Woman, with his back to the camera and face turned away, and he pulls down her brassiere, then steps out of the way for the audience’s benefit. Onlookers erupt in delight and awe at seeing her stupendous, shapely endowment bared before the camera. Wonder Woman turns red with embarrassment and rage, and she somehow succeeds in breaking free from her restraints and standing up in one last show of defiance, exclaiming with a burst of renewed vigor, “Your games do not amuse me and your depravity cannot break me. Rest assured that justice is coming” With that, Junior steps between her and the camera and slugs her, landing a crushing right to her face that sends her into unconsciousness.
Wonder Woman slumps to the floor topless, with blood now pouring from her nose and her gorgeous, natural breasts facing up and plainly visible to the camera. Only her signature blue and white-starred briefs leave anything to viewers’ imagination; because they are now as shredded as they are high-cut, however, they do precious little to cover her as she lies with her legs splayed wide for the camera, further fueling the fiends’ collective titillation. For the nefarious audience, these visual delights are a dream come true. Vinny winces and shoots Junior a look of contempt. The auctioneer wraps: “Those fireworks will conclude our free show, ladies and gentlemen. Further unveiling will be reserved exclusively for one lucky winner, whom we’ll contact presently.”
Back at IADC headquarters, Steve Trevor and team have accessed the feed in their conference room. The conclusion of the grisly telecast horrifies those gathered at IADC: They can only watch as Junior (back still turned to the camera) mops up: he stands over the now-topless, unconscious Wonder Woman and bends down to pry off her red earrings. A couple of thugs wearing werewolf masks are dragging away the bloodied, denuded heroine when the feed finally goes dark.
Gasps, tears, and outright sobs erupt across the IADC audience. Trevor remarks, “Diana couldn’t bear to watch this but she needs to know what’s happening. Where’s Diana?” Ignoring the question, IRAC instead reports that vast funds are being transferred internationally into offshore accounts, that there’s chatter about a private jet flying under the radar into US airspace, and that the window is closing for Wonder Woman to be rescued. Trevor says that “Wonder Woman has never given up on humanity and we’re not giving up on her now.” IRAC observes that the Falcone family is suspected to be holding her while arranging transport. Everyone knows that Carmine Falcone had been gunning for Wonder Woman, even though no one thought he’d succeed. Unfortunately, none of his known outposts shows any trace of her. Ongoing monitoring efforts have tried to pinpoint the specific broadcast location but have been able only to identify a likely quadrant. All available units are being dispatched there so they can respond ASAP to any suspicious activity or leads. Trevor dashes out in a frenzy.
Back at IADC headquarters, IRAC is reporting to Trevor that the warehouse was deserted by the time IADC arrived, but showed signs of recent, intense fighting. Disturbingly, there’s no sign of Wonder Woman, who stopped communicating upon reaching the warehouse; continuing efforts to contact her have been unsuccessful. Worst of all, certain blood samples picked up from the scene show a match with Wonder Woman. Trevor looks deeply worried. IRAC makes one more observation: Criminal activity seems to have come to a complete halt The only activity they’ve observed involves distribution of some sort of closed-circuit video feet among the worst criminals and deepest pockets that IADC monitors. IRAC concludes: “One intercepted communication likens whatever’s happening to Super Bowl Sunday for the criminal underworld.” Trevor’s eyes go wide.
Meanwhile, Wonder Woman has been stretched out cold, lying on a basic cot. in desperate circumstances at the final, secret hide-out. No one’s seen fit to restrain her because she is so obviously and thoroughly incapacitated. Closed-circuit TV has been set up to broadcast the upcoming auction of her to interested bidders: mob families and a rogues’ gallery of villains, all participating via remote video feeds. Separate locations patch in Cheetah, Arthur Chapman (who watches with personal pride, thanks to his contribution), the Joker and Harley Quinn, Lex Luthor, Poison Ivy, other mob families, Russian oligarchs, Arab sheikhs, and more; even Circe is tuning in (without stooping actually to bid).
Before the broadcast begins, Wonder Woman lies stretched out off-camera, in a side room, on the cot. Her iconic costume remains in tatters but recognizable to all; she is badly injured and in worrisome condition as she finally starts regaining her senses. The goons around her have remained well behaved but they’ve continued to admire her supple body (the only part of her that remains undiminished), commenting crudely as they do. As she begins to stir, her every movement is labored and pained, reflecting that Talia has not only defeated her but beaten her within an inch of her life. Vinny has used a cloth to tenderly wipe blood from her face, explaining that will make her more marketable, and has even applied a couple of butterfly bandages to her forehead and left eye to stem the bleeding there. Vinny has also recovered her tiara and restored it to resting properly on her head — for aesthetics, he says.
As she she at last comes alert in front of Falcone, Vinny and Junior, Wonder Woman strains to sit up and just barely succeeds. Taking in her surroundings, Wonder Woman’s spirits sink still lower: By comparison to Talia, Falcone and his men are less deserving and more repugnant as they wield total dominion over her.
Falcone says to her, “It’s good to see you up. You’ve been out for a while and we started doubting whether you’d wake up. You two girls played awfully rough and you definitely got the worst of it. But it wasn’t all bad for you, was it?” Falcone grins as he nods at the vestigial wetness that still dot the stars on their captive’s shredded blue briefs. Wonder Woman has no rejoinder but meekly asks, “What . . . what is to become of me?” Falcone responds with a beats-me-type shrug, “Couldn’t guess. I’ve no clue who the highest bidder will be, let alone what they’ll want to do with, or to, you. What happens from here will be none of my business — and, at the end of the day, I’ve gotta focus on my family’s business” Wonder Woman summons enough energy to ask, “Does this moment fill you with pride, Carmine, does it crown your legacy? To add to your trail of corpses, you’ll wipe out my protection and prevent me from saving more lives, righting more wrongs?” . . trailing off into a whisper . . . . Falcone: “No, not at all, my dear. On the contrary, I find this a sad waste of beauty, power, valor — it’s what I’d hoped to avoid. I feel no joy seeing this play out as it must. But by making the choice you did, you left me with none.” Wonder Woman sinks back in fatigue, pain, resignation, despair. Seeing her slump, Falcone can’t resist twisting the knife: “Honey, my boys and I aren’t monsters. We’re gonna be nostalgic for all your impressive wrappings (he gestures up and down what remains of her costume). And we’ll be capturing this next bit on camera, so we can always remember you just the way you were.” Falcone’s cruel taunting dispels any ray of hope for Wonder Woman. A tear runs down her beautiful cheek.
Vinny can’t help but feel pity and be moved. He pulls Falcone aside and and confides in him. “Boss, maybe we can end this now and walk away, before it goes too far. You’ve already taught her all the lesson she needs. The last thing we want is more heat, and that’s what we’ll get if we follow through on the plan.” Falcone remains icy and determined, “No, Vin. That’s not an option. Unless we make an example of this one, the do-gooders will never stop coming for us. “ Vinny tries another tack: “So then how ‘bout letting the doc fix her up real quick, so we don’t wind up with a disappointed buyer?” Falcone shakes his head. “Drop it. There’s no time for that. Our friends are waiting. Just pull those band-aids off so she won’t look too banged up (he points to the two bandages Vinny applied).” Falcone continues: “This particular business is dangerous for us and it’s gotta end soon. We can’t waste time wondering what’ll happen to Wonder Woman. Now let’s get the bidding started . . . . ”
Wonder Woman has now been ported to a makeshift studio, where she sits helpless and restrained, with her hands and legs tied to a simple wooden chair, directly in front of the camera as the telecast begins: Standing next to her is a colorful auctioneer bedecked in a garish, red robe, a white-powdered wig, and a Venetian costume mask. He serves as the master of ceremonies and introduces the proceedings: “Today’s ultimate prize needs little introduction. We offer to you a one-of-a-kind, priceless collector’s item, revered and coveted around the world. Her Amazon lineage is peerless and of royal pedigree. You see that she’s somewhat the worse for wear but I can assure you that she remains intact in all the ways that might matter to you, and that she is absolutely exquisite to behold in person.” To embellish his point, the auctioneer slides his hand over Wonder Woman’s thigh; in response, she can only shoot him an outraged glare. The auctioneer makes an exaggerated show of pretending to tremble and feel faint: “Ladies and gentlemen, If looks could kill, I’d be stricken where I stand.” He drops the act: “Happily, we’ve nothing to fear from this one beyond angry stares.” He laughs. “But I digress. Let’s return to our important business. Through our secure link, we’ll be welcoming your bids, which we trust will be commensurate with the remarkable, unprecedented bounty on display today. Identities and locations of bidders will be kept in strictest confidence; the last and highest bid will be displayed on the screen so you all can dig deep and shoot high for each wondrous prize. Winners will be announced at the conclusion of this proceeding and secure means of exchange will be arranged immediately. As a precaution, we’ve already taken the liberty of removing our reluctant guest’s very special belt (here he holds high her golden belt, which glistens in the studio lights). Please be advised that whoever claims this particular trophy — magnificent in and of itself — regrettably won’t be eligible to bid for its former owner. The one must be forever parted from the other for the sake of everyone’s comfort and safety, per the prudent instruction of our unnamed sponsor.”
The auctioneer continues: “Still, you can now bear witness as we relieve our fallen foe of other treasured trinkets for which she no longer has use. These are all the genuine article and will be available for you to bid on, each in turn.” The camera zooms into close-up as the auctioneer first slides off Wonder Woman’s boots, taking his sweet time and caressing her legs as he does; Wonder Woman turns her head sideways and down, with eyes her closed and a pained expression on her face; try as she may, however, she cannot avoid the camera’s prying lens. Next he removes her bracelets; as he does, Wonder Woman tries to pull away her hands, straining in vain against the ropes that leave her tied snugly to the chair. Last, the auctioneer makes a great show of bending to examine her tiara. He says, “Although earlier events weren’t televised, numerous eyewitnesses can confirm that our former champ fell down and lost her crown . . .” He feigns a sad face and rubs his eyes with his hands as a crying child would. He resumes “. . . at the feet of someone who trounced her.” He laughs heartily at Wonder Woman’s expense. With that, he removes her tiara and trumpets it to the camera, while Wonder Woman’s head drops and she looks down at the floor in shame.
The auctioneer gets ready to wrap. “Well, that disposes of the accessories. We come now to our featured item. As to her, we can assure you that these are real, too.” Junior is now standing over Wonder Woman, with his back to the camera and face turned away, and he pulls down her brassiere, then steps out of the way for the audience’s benefit. Onlookers erupt in delight and awe at seeing her stupendous, shapely endowment bared before the camera. Wonder Woman turns red with embarrassment and rage, and she somehow succeeds in breaking free from her restraints and standing up in one last show of defiance, exclaiming with a burst of renewed vigor, “Your games do not amuse me and your depravity cannot break me. Rest assured that justice is coming” With that, Junior steps between her and the camera and slugs her, landing a crushing right to her face that sends her into unconsciousness.
Wonder Woman slumps to the floor topless, with blood now pouring from her nose and her gorgeous, natural breasts facing up and plainly visible to the camera. Only her signature blue and white-starred briefs leave anything to viewers’ imagination; because they are now as shredded as they are high-cut, however, they do precious little to cover her as she lies with her legs splayed wide for the camera, further fueling the fiends’ collective titillation. For the nefarious audience, these visual delights are a dream come true. Vinny winces and shoots Junior a look of contempt. The auctioneer wraps: “Those fireworks will conclude our free show, ladies and gentlemen. Further unveiling will be reserved exclusively for one lucky winner, whom we’ll contact presently.”
Back at IADC headquarters, Steve Trevor and team have accessed the feed in their conference room. The conclusion of the grisly telecast horrifies those gathered at IADC: They can only watch as Junior (back still turned to the camera) mops up: he stands over the now-topless, unconscious Wonder Woman and bends down to pry off her red earrings. A couple of thugs wearing werewolf masks are dragging away the bloodied, denuded heroine when the feed finally goes dark.
Gasps, tears, and outright sobs erupt across the IADC audience. Trevor remarks, “Diana couldn’t bear to watch this but she needs to know what’s happening. Where’s Diana?” Ignoring the question, IRAC instead reports that vast funds are being transferred internationally into offshore accounts, that there’s chatter about a private jet flying under the radar into US airspace, and that the window is closing for Wonder Woman to be rescued. Trevor says that “Wonder Woman has never given up on humanity and we’re not giving up on her now.” IRAC observes that the Falcone family is suspected to be holding her while arranging transport. Everyone knows that Carmine Falcone had been gunning for Wonder Woman, even though no one thought he’d succeed. Unfortunately, none of his known outposts shows any trace of her. Ongoing monitoring efforts have tried to pinpoint the specific broadcast location but have been able only to identify a likely quadrant. All available units are being dispatched there so they can respond ASAP to any suspicious activity or leads. Trevor dashes out in a frenzy.
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DrDominator9
- Emissary
- Posts: 2460
- Joined: 13 years ago
- Location: On the Border of the Neutral Zone
Wonderfully done! Clear and concise descriptions, fun takedown scenes, plenty of peril and humiliation, too. Loving this story. More please!!
V. THE REVERSAL
Vinny sits alone in his office, ensconced in thought. He studies Wonder Woman’s belt and other accessories as scattered across the desk in front of him, then grabs them up with a heavy sigh.
Wonder Woman is utterly oblivious to her plight, which has become even more desperate. She’s now strung up, stripped of her accessories, totally exposed from the waist up, and suspended on an x-shaped rack. With her arms and legs stretched wide and tied securely to the rack, she hangs suggestively in a state of perpetual unconsciousness, thanks to a chloroform-soaked rag that’s been placed in her mouth and strapped around her head. Her nose has stopped bleeding but dried blood dots her angelic features, which remain visible even as her head hangs forward and her rumpled hair tumbles over her brow. Her tan, toned body is more exposed than ever and it glistens with sweat. All of her many bruises, cuts, and scrapes are displayed, documenting Talia’s thoroughgoing demolition of her. Her taut, poster-worthy abs mask a grave wound that still enfeebles her. The blue-and-white shreds of her briefs just barely cover her womanhood, while her naked, awe-inspiring breasts are altogether free from her brassiere, which sags in front like a useless appendage; the stunning combination attracts endless gawking.
Leering and jeering at her at this particular moment stand Junior and Tommy (Junior’s ever-faithful bodyguard), who are now left to their own devices. The door to the room is closed and they have Wonder Woman alone, at their mercy. Junior remarks: “Our girl’s not so high and mighty now, is she?” Tommy jokes: “Well, she may be high — just not mighty. I can hardly recognize her in dress-down mode, without all her little toys.” Junior: “Oh, I recognize her just fine. This is how I pictured her when I first laid eyes on her. She’s just getting her beauty sleep before her long flight to Saudi.” Tommy: “It won’t be too hard on her, I hear they’re flying private; plus she doesn’t have to worry about any return trip.” Junior responds: “Too true. That makes this my last chance to say a proper farewell. But my dad says we can’t disturb her final pose for the agreed transfer. The buyers got photos of her this way and wanna take custody as-is.” Junior looks around to make sure that the door’s closed and no one’s peering in.
After confirming the coast is clear, Junior gets grabby as ever, running one hand slowly up Wonder Woman’s thigh while reaching around to fondle her tight, sculpted glutes with the other. While clenching her ass with impunity, he brushes his other hand along her drooping brassiere and creeps it towards her crown jewel. Through the shredded remnants of her briefs, a distinct camel-toe marks the outline of her outer lips; Junior zeroes in there with his fingers, then bends them to probe inwards through the tight, stretched, frayed fabric. At the same time, Tommy is licking his fingertips and reaching upwards to caress Wonder Woman’s bare breasts; he focuses on deftly manipulating her nipples. Like a thoroughbred racehorse that yearns to run, Wonder Woman’s magnificent body has hungers of its own. Despite chloroform dosing and all she has suffered, Wonder Woman responds instinctively to being pleasured: her hips bend down towards Junior and her breasts perk up, with her nipples proudly protruding at Tommy’s prompting. Junior says to her: ”You once told me that ‘no’ means ‘no,’ Sleeping Beauty, but I’m not hearing anything at all out of you and your body’s telling us ‘yes.’” Junior smiles an evil, self-congratulatory grin. Unable to stop himself, Junior tugs at the frail barrier formed by Wonder Woman’s briefs and leans into his ultimate target with his tongue flicking out like a viper’s . . . .
. . . . Before Junior can complete his designs, however, Vinny strides up behind Junior and says ““Sleep tight, Prince Charming,” as he flattens Junior with a lights-out punch to the back of his head. Without pausing to watch Junior fall, Vinny quickly pistol-whips a stunned Tommy and puts him down, too. Now Vinny stands alone before the unconscious, topless, broken Wonder Woman, at whom he gazes with a mixture of guilt and dismay. “What’ve we done?,” Vinny asks himself aloud.
From there, Vinny is gentlemanly in untying Wonder Woman and letting her down, removing the chloroform-laden rag from her mouth, supporting her weight, restoring her brassiere as best he can, and coaxing her back to consciousness, which proves to be no easy task. Her eyes at last flutter open and she manages to steady herself somewhat; now she focuses on Vinny with a groggy, quizzical expression. Vinny tells her: “This ain’t right. You deserve better. And the world needs more of you, less of us.” He helps her take a couple of ginger steps to recover her circulation and bearings. Once Wonder Woman is able to stand on her own, Vinny patiently helps her assemble her full costume, item by item, starting with her belt, which he wraps around her slender waist.
Vinny asks: “You ok?” Wonder Woman eyes him suspiciously: “’I’m . . . I’m not at my best but I’m still far, far better than anyone else who’s been rubbing shoulders with the Falcones. Maybe you can turn the page and seek out better company,” as she gestures to Junior and Tony lying stretched out on the floor. Vinny shakes his head regretfully. “Nope, it’s too late for that. I’ve dug a hole too deep for me to jump out.” Wonder Woman puts her hand on his shoulder, subtly wincing as she does. “You’re no Falcone, Vinny. I can tell the difference.” She then closes her eyes upon taking a labored breath, clutches her midsection with both hands, and wobbles; she leans on Vinny once more to steady herself. He looks into her eyes with concern, points to where Talia’s final blow landed, and asks if she’s truly herself. She nods her head to confirm that she’s coming back and then assumes her power stance, on firm legs, with her hands on her hips. Vinny remarks: “Now that’s more like it.”
They hear someone yelling for Junior and commotion starts building outside the door, which Vinny had closed and locked behind him. Vinny tells her, “I didn’t do this for nothing. Show ‘em what you got — go give ‘em hell.” Wonder Woman takes one more deep breath, wipes a remaining trickle of blood from her mouth, and launches into her singular spin. In a dazzling flash of light, her costume is fully restored and she’s as ready for battle as she possibly can be in her condition.
Now Wonder Woman springs back into action, clearing away cobwebs and shaking off lingering injuries as she leaps towards the door. She tears open the room’s door and flings it outwards at a group of thugs rushing down the hall; deflects a torrent of bullets as she exits; hurls her tiara to take out a gunman taking aim in the hallway; and starts furiously flinging guys left and right like light bowling balls smashing into one another as pins. After trying in vain to rush her, Falcone’s soldiers reverse course and start fleeing. Several of the guys wind up flying through windows, showering glass all around them as they tumble outside. The operation cannot withstand Wonder Woman’s furious onslaught and quickly falls into disarray. Falcone’s gang is suddenly in shambles — scattering, panicking and fleeing for exits. Falcone’s driver grabs Falcone’s arm and says, “Boss, we need to get you out of here, pronto. Let’s get to the garage.” Falcone commands, “Fellas: Get ready to cover us!” Wonder Woman sees the duo escaping downstairs and finishes cleaning up leftover gang members with heightened urgency. She lassoes the few remaining bad guys into surrender and directs them to deliver themselves peacefully to the police.
Meanwhile, Vinny has slinked back to his office, where he sits still and alone amidst the fray. He’s again deep in thought, now with his handgun lying on the desk in front of him. He looks at a framed desk photo capturing younger versions of him and Carmine Falcone, smiling, with arms around one another’s shoulders. Tommy, who’s now up and about, is drawing his gun and warily approaching Vinny’s office when he hears a single gunshot coming from inside and sees a grisly splatter of blood and brains on the glass.
Downstairs, Falcone’s driver is starting their car, an armored Cadillac sedan, and waiting for the heavily-fortified garage door as it slowly opens. As Wonder Woman races towards the garage to cut them off, she is tiring and her pain is intensifying; she senses that something is badly awry deep inside her but banishes the distraction from her mind. She rushes into the expansive garage off balance and off kilter, failing to detect the artillery pointing at her until it’s nearly too late. Three gunmen are taking aim from the far right side of the garage, beside an Aston Martin. They open up with machine guns and she doesn’t have time for her customary bracelet deflection, so she instead dives hard to the floor behind an armored Range Rover that’s immediately to the left of the Aston Martin. A heavy burst of machine-gun fire deflects off the Range Rover while Wonder Woman takes cover behind it. Summoning all her strength, Wonder Woman shoves the Range Rover sideways into the Aston Martin, sending both vehicles sliding with crushing force and pinning all three gunmen between the Aston Martin and the right side of the garage. They shriek in agony, let their guns clatter to the floor, and clamor for help that’s not coming anytime soon. Wonder Woman can’t dwell on how close a shave that was because Falcone’s about to get away; the garage door has nearly finished opening right as she’s springing up from the floor.
Falcone’s driver guns the Cadillac but it gets no further than the threshold of the garage, at which point its wheels start spinning. To their chagrin, Wonder Woman now is holding up the back of the car by its chassis as she stands under the garage door, not letting the car travel an inch further. She peels off one back wheel and throws it to the side, then does the same to the other. No sooner has she disabled the Cadillac than she leaps forward to smash the driver’s side window and fling the driver out like a rag doll; he rolls and rolls until coming to a dead stop on the ground outside. She then somersaults over the car to where Falcone sits in the passenger seat. Uncharacteristically, though, she doesn’t stick the landing and stumbles a bit. That gives Falcone time to overcome his surprise and draw his gun but Wonder Woman recovers in time to seize that from him and twist it into a pretzel.
Wonder Woman then lifts Falcone out of the car through the window and holds him aloft by his collar in the driveway. The tables have turned. Falcone grovels: “Look, I hope there are no hard feelings between us. Business is business. We can still make a deal together, only now from a position of mutual respect,” he says hopefully. Wonder Woman upbraids him: “The words ‘respect’ and ‘Falcone’ don’t belong in the same sentence. The depth of your depravity is bottomless, I now know. All you’re owed is a reckoning, and that’s what’s coming.” Falcone’s fading: “So no truce?” Wonder Woman shuts him down: “No chance, Carmine, but I’ll show you a kindness you’d never show me. We have a proper costume waiting for you. You’ll look terrible in jailhouse stripes, and I can’t wait to see pictures.”
Cop cars are flooding onto the scene with sirens blaring and flashing. Falcone’s totally done and he slumps to his knees as Wonder Woman lowers him down and towers over him, basking in her hard-won victory. Police lead Falcone away in handcuffs, with his head hanging low, while members of his gang are getting arrested en masse.
Trevor now comes running up to Wonder Woman, saying “You’re a sight for sore eyes.” Wonder Woman completes the thought: “Unlike the trash getting swept up around us.” But now she winces, falters, and looks liable to faint, until Steve grabs her shoulders to hold her upright. He asks with concern, “What’ve they done to you?” Wonder Woman: “Save that discussion for later. I need to finish cleaning up here; I’ve yet to see the bottom of this unsavory barrel getting scraped away. For now, let’s just say that Diana Prince may need to take some medical leave after all this,” as she gazes meaningfully at him. Trevor flashes puzzlement, then recognition. He and Wonder Woman share a lingering, tender embrace.
Meanwhile, just as Wonder Woman suspected, Junior and Tommy have both recovered in time to escape through a secret underground tunnel to a nondescript hideout down the block, where they’re avoiding detection. They’re accompanied by Nick and two more of their guys who broke away from the pack. They’ve all been watching from a safe vantage point as police responded and Falcone and the rest of the crew got arrested. Junior fumes: “Who does she think she is? Nobody does that to my dad, NOBODY!” Tommy tries to calm him: “Cmon, this ain’t so bad. Now it’ll be your turn, your time, your chance. What we’ve gotta do now is regroup and rebuild.” Junior’s face is twisted with rage: “No way, Tommy, first things come first. That girl crossed the wrong family, and she’s gotta pay the price in full.” Through a window, he catches sight of Wonder Woman embracing with Trevor and, before Tommy can stop him, yells “Hey, sweetheart: You got a taste of me but I’m betting you still want more. If you think you can handle what I’ve got, leave your boyfriend behind and come through the tunnel so we can square things up between ourselves. Just hit 6666# on the keypad in the room where we strung you up, climb down the stairs that’ll open up behind the bookshelf, let it slide shut behind you, and we’ll be waiting at the end. Come now and come alone so I can see how far I get this time,” he says, quoting her earlier invitation back to her.
Wonder Woman’s superhuman hearing picks up Junior’s every word and she nods her head in acceptance of his challenge. She tells Trevor with a strained smile, “Duty calls.” Trevor says: “But, Diana, your work here should be done. These officers can finish cleaning up.” Wonder Woman’s legs are still wobbly but she is resolute in her response: “I can’t leave the worst of the Falcone family on the loose. It’s my responsibility to bring them to justice.” He pleads with her, “No, it’s too soon after what you’ve just been through. Please let us help YOU for once.” She shakes him off: “That won’t work. These vermin will scurry away and imperil civilians before any organized response reaches them. But they’re cocky and foolhardy enough to face me alone.” Steve looks like he won’t relent and starts to say more but Wonder Woman stops him: “Hear this, Steve: Scores still need to be settled with the Falcones, and they’re MINE to settle. Now trust me to settle them. I’ll be back in the blink of an eye.” She ends the conversation by surprising Trevor with a kiss on the lips. It’s quick but meaningful and full of promise — and it sends him swooning.
Wonder Woman winks and smiles winsomely, returning to her spectacular form in Trevor’s eyes. She then dashes away at speed so she can pick up the tunnel and Junior’s footsteps. As she fades from Trevor’s sight, however, pain is written across her face and she’s less and less sure-footed, stumbling here and there as she sprints back inside to chase down her remaining quarry.
Vinny sits alone in his office, ensconced in thought. He studies Wonder Woman’s belt and other accessories as scattered across the desk in front of him, then grabs them up with a heavy sigh.
Wonder Woman is utterly oblivious to her plight, which has become even more desperate. She’s now strung up, stripped of her accessories, totally exposed from the waist up, and suspended on an x-shaped rack. With her arms and legs stretched wide and tied securely to the rack, she hangs suggestively in a state of perpetual unconsciousness, thanks to a chloroform-soaked rag that’s been placed in her mouth and strapped around her head. Her nose has stopped bleeding but dried blood dots her angelic features, which remain visible even as her head hangs forward and her rumpled hair tumbles over her brow. Her tan, toned body is more exposed than ever and it glistens with sweat. All of her many bruises, cuts, and scrapes are displayed, documenting Talia’s thoroughgoing demolition of her. Her taut, poster-worthy abs mask a grave wound that still enfeebles her. The blue-and-white shreds of her briefs just barely cover her womanhood, while her naked, awe-inspiring breasts are altogether free from her brassiere, which sags in front like a useless appendage; the stunning combination attracts endless gawking.
Leering and jeering at her at this particular moment stand Junior and Tommy (Junior’s ever-faithful bodyguard), who are now left to their own devices. The door to the room is closed and they have Wonder Woman alone, at their mercy. Junior remarks: “Our girl’s not so high and mighty now, is she?” Tommy jokes: “Well, she may be high — just not mighty. I can hardly recognize her in dress-down mode, without all her little toys.” Junior: “Oh, I recognize her just fine. This is how I pictured her when I first laid eyes on her. She’s just getting her beauty sleep before her long flight to Saudi.” Tommy: “It won’t be too hard on her, I hear they’re flying private; plus she doesn’t have to worry about any return trip.” Junior responds: “Too true. That makes this my last chance to say a proper farewell. But my dad says we can’t disturb her final pose for the agreed transfer. The buyers got photos of her this way and wanna take custody as-is.” Junior looks around to make sure that the door’s closed and no one’s peering in.
After confirming the coast is clear, Junior gets grabby as ever, running one hand slowly up Wonder Woman’s thigh while reaching around to fondle her tight, sculpted glutes with the other. While clenching her ass with impunity, he brushes his other hand along her drooping brassiere and creeps it towards her crown jewel. Through the shredded remnants of her briefs, a distinct camel-toe marks the outline of her outer lips; Junior zeroes in there with his fingers, then bends them to probe inwards through the tight, stretched, frayed fabric. At the same time, Tommy is licking his fingertips and reaching upwards to caress Wonder Woman’s bare breasts; he focuses on deftly manipulating her nipples. Like a thoroughbred racehorse that yearns to run, Wonder Woman’s magnificent body has hungers of its own. Despite chloroform dosing and all she has suffered, Wonder Woman responds instinctively to being pleasured: her hips bend down towards Junior and her breasts perk up, with her nipples proudly protruding at Tommy’s prompting. Junior says to her: ”You once told me that ‘no’ means ‘no,’ Sleeping Beauty, but I’m not hearing anything at all out of you and your body’s telling us ‘yes.’” Junior smiles an evil, self-congratulatory grin. Unable to stop himself, Junior tugs at the frail barrier formed by Wonder Woman’s briefs and leans into his ultimate target with his tongue flicking out like a viper’s . . . .
. . . . Before Junior can complete his designs, however, Vinny strides up behind Junior and says ““Sleep tight, Prince Charming,” as he flattens Junior with a lights-out punch to the back of his head. Without pausing to watch Junior fall, Vinny quickly pistol-whips a stunned Tommy and puts him down, too. Now Vinny stands alone before the unconscious, topless, broken Wonder Woman, at whom he gazes with a mixture of guilt and dismay. “What’ve we done?,” Vinny asks himself aloud.
From there, Vinny is gentlemanly in untying Wonder Woman and letting her down, removing the chloroform-laden rag from her mouth, supporting her weight, restoring her brassiere as best he can, and coaxing her back to consciousness, which proves to be no easy task. Her eyes at last flutter open and she manages to steady herself somewhat; now she focuses on Vinny with a groggy, quizzical expression. Vinny tells her: “This ain’t right. You deserve better. And the world needs more of you, less of us.” He helps her take a couple of ginger steps to recover her circulation and bearings. Once Wonder Woman is able to stand on her own, Vinny patiently helps her assemble her full costume, item by item, starting with her belt, which he wraps around her slender waist.
Vinny asks: “You ok?” Wonder Woman eyes him suspiciously: “’I’m . . . I’m not at my best but I’m still far, far better than anyone else who’s been rubbing shoulders with the Falcones. Maybe you can turn the page and seek out better company,” as she gestures to Junior and Tony lying stretched out on the floor. Vinny shakes his head regretfully. “Nope, it’s too late for that. I’ve dug a hole too deep for me to jump out.” Wonder Woman puts her hand on his shoulder, subtly wincing as she does. “You’re no Falcone, Vinny. I can tell the difference.” She then closes her eyes upon taking a labored breath, clutches her midsection with both hands, and wobbles; she leans on Vinny once more to steady herself. He looks into her eyes with concern, points to where Talia’s final blow landed, and asks if she’s truly herself. She nods her head to confirm that she’s coming back and then assumes her power stance, on firm legs, with her hands on her hips. Vinny remarks: “Now that’s more like it.”
They hear someone yelling for Junior and commotion starts building outside the door, which Vinny had closed and locked behind him. Vinny tells her, “I didn’t do this for nothing. Show ‘em what you got — go give ‘em hell.” Wonder Woman takes one more deep breath, wipes a remaining trickle of blood from her mouth, and launches into her singular spin. In a dazzling flash of light, her costume is fully restored and she’s as ready for battle as she possibly can be in her condition.
Now Wonder Woman springs back into action, clearing away cobwebs and shaking off lingering injuries as she leaps towards the door. She tears open the room’s door and flings it outwards at a group of thugs rushing down the hall; deflects a torrent of bullets as she exits; hurls her tiara to take out a gunman taking aim in the hallway; and starts furiously flinging guys left and right like light bowling balls smashing into one another as pins. After trying in vain to rush her, Falcone’s soldiers reverse course and start fleeing. Several of the guys wind up flying through windows, showering glass all around them as they tumble outside. The operation cannot withstand Wonder Woman’s furious onslaught and quickly falls into disarray. Falcone’s gang is suddenly in shambles — scattering, panicking and fleeing for exits. Falcone’s driver grabs Falcone’s arm and says, “Boss, we need to get you out of here, pronto. Let’s get to the garage.” Falcone commands, “Fellas: Get ready to cover us!” Wonder Woman sees the duo escaping downstairs and finishes cleaning up leftover gang members with heightened urgency. She lassoes the few remaining bad guys into surrender and directs them to deliver themselves peacefully to the police.
Meanwhile, Vinny has slinked back to his office, where he sits still and alone amidst the fray. He’s again deep in thought, now with his handgun lying on the desk in front of him. He looks at a framed desk photo capturing younger versions of him and Carmine Falcone, smiling, with arms around one another’s shoulders. Tommy, who’s now up and about, is drawing his gun and warily approaching Vinny’s office when he hears a single gunshot coming from inside and sees a grisly splatter of blood and brains on the glass.
Downstairs, Falcone’s driver is starting their car, an armored Cadillac sedan, and waiting for the heavily-fortified garage door as it slowly opens. As Wonder Woman races towards the garage to cut them off, she is tiring and her pain is intensifying; she senses that something is badly awry deep inside her but banishes the distraction from her mind. She rushes into the expansive garage off balance and off kilter, failing to detect the artillery pointing at her until it’s nearly too late. Three gunmen are taking aim from the far right side of the garage, beside an Aston Martin. They open up with machine guns and she doesn’t have time for her customary bracelet deflection, so she instead dives hard to the floor behind an armored Range Rover that’s immediately to the left of the Aston Martin. A heavy burst of machine-gun fire deflects off the Range Rover while Wonder Woman takes cover behind it. Summoning all her strength, Wonder Woman shoves the Range Rover sideways into the Aston Martin, sending both vehicles sliding with crushing force and pinning all three gunmen between the Aston Martin and the right side of the garage. They shriek in agony, let their guns clatter to the floor, and clamor for help that’s not coming anytime soon. Wonder Woman can’t dwell on how close a shave that was because Falcone’s about to get away; the garage door has nearly finished opening right as she’s springing up from the floor.
Falcone’s driver guns the Cadillac but it gets no further than the threshold of the garage, at which point its wheels start spinning. To their chagrin, Wonder Woman now is holding up the back of the car by its chassis as she stands under the garage door, not letting the car travel an inch further. She peels off one back wheel and throws it to the side, then does the same to the other. No sooner has she disabled the Cadillac than she leaps forward to smash the driver’s side window and fling the driver out like a rag doll; he rolls and rolls until coming to a dead stop on the ground outside. She then somersaults over the car to where Falcone sits in the passenger seat. Uncharacteristically, though, she doesn’t stick the landing and stumbles a bit. That gives Falcone time to overcome his surprise and draw his gun but Wonder Woman recovers in time to seize that from him and twist it into a pretzel.
Wonder Woman then lifts Falcone out of the car through the window and holds him aloft by his collar in the driveway. The tables have turned. Falcone grovels: “Look, I hope there are no hard feelings between us. Business is business. We can still make a deal together, only now from a position of mutual respect,” he says hopefully. Wonder Woman upbraids him: “The words ‘respect’ and ‘Falcone’ don’t belong in the same sentence. The depth of your depravity is bottomless, I now know. All you’re owed is a reckoning, and that’s what’s coming.” Falcone’s fading: “So no truce?” Wonder Woman shuts him down: “No chance, Carmine, but I’ll show you a kindness you’d never show me. We have a proper costume waiting for you. You’ll look terrible in jailhouse stripes, and I can’t wait to see pictures.”
Cop cars are flooding onto the scene with sirens blaring and flashing. Falcone’s totally done and he slumps to his knees as Wonder Woman lowers him down and towers over him, basking in her hard-won victory. Police lead Falcone away in handcuffs, with his head hanging low, while members of his gang are getting arrested en masse.
Trevor now comes running up to Wonder Woman, saying “You’re a sight for sore eyes.” Wonder Woman completes the thought: “Unlike the trash getting swept up around us.” But now she winces, falters, and looks liable to faint, until Steve grabs her shoulders to hold her upright. He asks with concern, “What’ve they done to you?” Wonder Woman: “Save that discussion for later. I need to finish cleaning up here; I’ve yet to see the bottom of this unsavory barrel getting scraped away. For now, let’s just say that Diana Prince may need to take some medical leave after all this,” as she gazes meaningfully at him. Trevor flashes puzzlement, then recognition. He and Wonder Woman share a lingering, tender embrace.
Meanwhile, just as Wonder Woman suspected, Junior and Tommy have both recovered in time to escape through a secret underground tunnel to a nondescript hideout down the block, where they’re avoiding detection. They’re accompanied by Nick and two more of their guys who broke away from the pack. They’ve all been watching from a safe vantage point as police responded and Falcone and the rest of the crew got arrested. Junior fumes: “Who does she think she is? Nobody does that to my dad, NOBODY!” Tommy tries to calm him: “Cmon, this ain’t so bad. Now it’ll be your turn, your time, your chance. What we’ve gotta do now is regroup and rebuild.” Junior’s face is twisted with rage: “No way, Tommy, first things come first. That girl crossed the wrong family, and she’s gotta pay the price in full.” Through a window, he catches sight of Wonder Woman embracing with Trevor and, before Tommy can stop him, yells “Hey, sweetheart: You got a taste of me but I’m betting you still want more. If you think you can handle what I’ve got, leave your boyfriend behind and come through the tunnel so we can square things up between ourselves. Just hit 6666# on the keypad in the room where we strung you up, climb down the stairs that’ll open up behind the bookshelf, let it slide shut behind you, and we’ll be waiting at the end. Come now and come alone so I can see how far I get this time,” he says, quoting her earlier invitation back to her.
Wonder Woman’s superhuman hearing picks up Junior’s every word and she nods her head in acceptance of his challenge. She tells Trevor with a strained smile, “Duty calls.” Trevor says: “But, Diana, your work here should be done. These officers can finish cleaning up.” Wonder Woman’s legs are still wobbly but she is resolute in her response: “I can’t leave the worst of the Falcone family on the loose. It’s my responsibility to bring them to justice.” He pleads with her, “No, it’s too soon after what you’ve just been through. Please let us help YOU for once.” She shakes him off: “That won’t work. These vermin will scurry away and imperil civilians before any organized response reaches them. But they’re cocky and foolhardy enough to face me alone.” Steve looks like he won’t relent and starts to say more but Wonder Woman stops him: “Hear this, Steve: Scores still need to be settled with the Falcones, and they’re MINE to settle. Now trust me to settle them. I’ll be back in the blink of an eye.” She ends the conversation by surprising Trevor with a kiss on the lips. It’s quick but meaningful and full of promise — and it sends him swooning.
Wonder Woman winks and smiles winsomely, returning to her spectacular form in Trevor’s eyes. She then dashes away at speed so she can pick up the tunnel and Junior’s footsteps. As she fades from Trevor’s sight, however, pain is written across her face and she’s less and less sure-footed, stumbling here and there as she sprints back inside to chase down her remaining quarry.
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DrDominator9
- Emissary
- Posts: 2460
- Joined: 13 years ago
- Location: On the Border of the Neutral Zone
A fine addition to this masterful tale! I found Vinny's actions very intriguing and a nice twist. Do you know what sort of internal injuries WW has sustained or is it nebulous in your thinking?
Brilliant story! I love the attention to details.
VI. THE TRANSFORMATION
Junior’s small crew is uncomfortable with where he’s placed them. Wonder Woman is coming for them at maximum speed and they can’t equal the manpower and firepower that came nowhere close to downing her earlier. Nor do they have the element of surprise. But there’s no reasoning with Junior, who’s enraged and dead-set on extracting revenge for Carmine’s arrest He talks big in an effort to boost the guys’ morale: they have nothing to fear, she’s on her last legs, he’s got her number. And he hands Nick a baseball bat saying, “if all else fails, you take your best swing. I heard some things and saw some photos about this doing the trick for the Bertinellis, before they came up craps against her.” Just then they spot a video feed of Wonder Woman entering the tunnel and running straight for them at impossible speed. Four of them ready their guns and take positions while Nick cradles the bat behind them.
Wonder Woman slows down upon entering the hallway, sensing danger and hearing the sound of rounds getting chambered and metal scraping the walls as the guys position their artillery. The first two gunners lean out from their doorways and open fire simultaneously and Wonder Woman expertly deflects their machine-gun fire, with every bullet ricocheting back down the hall. Before they can reload, Wonder Woman tosses her tiara with uncanny accuracy so that it disarms one gunmen, then bounces across into the second, disarming him too. Both howl and grab their wrists in pain.
Junior then steps out of a doorway lifting a shotgun and hoping to blast Wonder Woman, but she is way too fast for him; she closes the distance in a flash and bends the shotgun’s barrel upwards and backwards before Junior can pull the trigger. Caught out of his depth, Junior can only stare wide-eyed at Wonder Woman as she hurls him into the wall with terrifying force, leaving a stunned Junior physically indented into the wall, out of the fight, squirming haplessly and pleading for help. The sight of Junior struggling to extract himself from the wall is downright comical and would provoke laughter from his crew — that is, if they weren’t otherwise occupied and fearful of crossing Junior.
Tommy then steps out of the opposite doorway and empties a clip to no avail, as Wonder Woman whirls to deflect each shot in rapid succession. Fast and resourceful, Tommy has a second handgun in his other hand and quickly squeezes off a couple of rounds from that. In her diminished condition, Wonder Woman is slowing a bit and just barely manages to get her other bracelet positioned to deflect these. As she does so, Tommy’s second shot ricochets into her left arm. It’s only a glancing wound but it draws blood and a noticeable grimace from Wonder Woman, who nonetheless manages to put Tommy down and out of commission by landing a picture-perfect right hook to his jaw.
Nick has been holding back, doubting that his bat can bring down a legend and fearing another tussle with the superheroine. But he’s emboldened to see that Tommy’s drawn blood and that Wonder Woman’s off by a step. When the other two guys recover enough to jump at her, she has no problem snatching them out of the air and holding them aloft, but she pauses a beat to gather herself before hurling them into opposite walls. Just as she’s disposing of them, Nick seizes the opening to swing his bat while her back is turned to him. It’s a rushed, clumsy, off-balance swing but it catches her unaware in the back of her head, which is jarred forward, leaving Wonder Woman more surprised and annoyed than injured. Still, Wonder Woman is out of sorts as she turns to face Nick and he manages another try. This time he swings the bat with more conviction, stepping into it. A slowing Wonder Woman gets one arm out to protect herself but merely cushions the blow — she doesn’t stop it. After being deflected downwards, the blow happens to land right in Wonder Woman’s solar plexus — the exact spot that Talia had struck with her parting blow. There’s no masking the resulting damage. Wonder Woman looks stricken, her eyes go wide with surprise, she falters and gasps, her face pales, and her arms fall to her sides. Junior sees the opening and yells at Nick to swing again for the same spot. Nick obliges and takes his hardest swing yet. This time Wonder Woman can’t get either arm up to deflect in time and the bat nails the bull’s eye — straight into her solar plexus — thereby delivering the decisive blow.
Wonder Woman immediately crumples to her knees, then collapses down to her hands, managing to keep her head raised mere inches above the ground. Blood drips from her mouth and starts pooling under her. Her worst wound, unhealed since the drubbing at Talia’s hands, has been reopened afresh. At this point, the fight is over and Wonder Woman has returned to teetering on the precipice. As testament to her fighting spirit, however, she somehow mounts a valiant effort to rise while Nick stands back watching — indulgently and bemusedly, curious to see how she’ll fare. As she endeavors to stand, she trembles awkwardly, like a newborn fawn trying to rise on its legs for the first time. Alas, Wonder Woman’s body can no longer keep pace with her will: her legs have turned to jelly; they give out under her and she again melts to the floor, panting pathetically. Her reserves have been utterly exhausted. Now she simply lies face down on the floor, striving to recover her breath, her senses, and her ability to function.
Nick gloats over her: “Guess you’re done taking me to school. Maybe I can return the favor by teaching you how to stand.” He laughs at his own cruel joke and says, “Or maybe I’d rather leave you right where you are.” He kicks hard straight into her midsection while she lies prone and panting, eliciting a weak, anguished “uuuuunnnnnhhhhhhh.” Nick kicks her once more in the same place. That leaves her writhing, coughing, wheezing for air. Nursing her grievous injury and hovering on the edge of consciousness, the once-mighty superheroine now emits only the most pitiful sights and sounds. Nick is turned on by observing how the goddess who’d tossed him through a window, effortlessly, has suddenly been reduced to trembling and whimpering at his feet. When he now lifts the bat high above his head, all Wonder Woman can do is cower beneath him. Nick shakes his head derisively and lets the bat slip through his fingers, then clatter harmlessly to the floor behind him. He looks down at her and says, slowly and matter-of-factly: “It’s over, hon. You’re ours. All ours.”
Knowing that they’ve won, the guys take their time pulling Junior out from the wall and getting Tommy back to his senses and walking around. But they also realize that the cops will be combing the neighborhood, and they are keen to get away clean. They all dust themselves off and gather around their downed opponent, congratulating Nick and slapping him on the back for coming through. Junior tells everyone, “We’re not quite done here yet.” Tommy takes the cue to pull Wonder Woman’s head up by her hair. He holds his gun to the side of her head and cocks the trigger; her only response is to flinch and shut her eyes tightly. But Junior lowers Tommy’s arm and says, “Cool it. We ain’t gonna be so kind. Dad and our contractor wouldn’t want that. They’d want this to be slower, more painful, more humiliating for her.” Instead, Junior reaches down towards Wonder Woman’s waist and, with her powers short-circuited and flickering off, tugs her belt off without the expected resistance. Stripped of her belt, even her healing powers abandon her and mortal peril looms.
Junior tells the two gunners to hold her up for him. They oblige, pulling Wonder Woman to her feet, which merely dangle, as do her arms. Junior lifts her head up by her chin, stares closely and intently into her eyes, and says, “We’ll need to break up our routine, babe. This is getting old and tired. Let’s plan to inject some romance next time.” Wonder Woman strains and squirms, feebly and futilely, against the mens’ grip. She speaks to Junior in bold, defiant terms that are betrayed by her voice, which hesitates and falters. “Your bad apple will … will dis- … disintegrate alongside the fall- … fallen tree of your father.” Junior puts his finger to his mouth and says, “Shhhhhh. You’ll want to save your breath.” He then pulls back his fist and throws a vicious punch straight into Wonder Woman’s gut. Precious air she’s gathered is brutally expelled with an “oooommmmppppphhhhhh” and more blood drips from her mouth. She moans, “Yoooouuuuu caaannnntttt . . . “ Without letting her finish, Junior says “Oh yes we can. Just watch us. I’m taking this as far as I want” — now he grabs her crotch and squeezes with impunity, producing a gasp from her as she hangs limp in his guys’ arms — “and you’re gonna regret ever messing with the Falcones.” Junior then loads up on another punch and delivers it even harder into Wonder Woman’s gut. This time she is lifted off the ground, doubled straight over, and left coughing and gasping for air that won’t come.
Junior waits patiently for his guys to pull her back up and for her to stabilize, which takes time. Wonder Woman’s face has now gone ghastly pale, heightening the contrast with the blood around her mouth; her features have gone slack; her eyes have glazed over. The most Wonder Woman can do is float a faint, final prayer in a raspy whisper, “Herrrraaaa hellllppp . . .” Bending over to hear her, Junior interrupts with exaggerated tenderness, pinching her lips shut with his right hand while using his left hand to gently smear the blood from around her mouth directly over her lips, as though he’s applying lipstick for her. He mocks and matches her soft whisper with his own hushed voice as he speaks closely and intimately back to Wonder Woman. Yet his ice-cold words betray his feigned tenderness: “No Hera here. No help coming. Your boy Vinny’s all done and so are you,” he whispers back. Then he throws one last punch targeted straight at Wonder Woman’s solar plexus. This blow delivers unbearable pain and plunges her into lasting, all-enveloping blackness.
Nothing but the enemy’s support has been keeping Wonder Woman up. As soon as the guys release her, she falls back to the wall, then slowly slides down it. The unconscious Wonder Woman finally slumps to the floor in a sitting position, with her back propped against the wall, her legs outstretched in front of her, her arms hanging slack, and her head slumping over her chest. In that position, Wonder Woman now sits deathly still, eyes completely shut, with blood seeping down from her mouth and onto the upper portion of her breasts, then trickling down to her brassiere. She could not be any more helpless, nor could her fate be in any worse hands . . . .
Junior’s small crew is uncomfortable with where he’s placed them. Wonder Woman is coming for them at maximum speed and they can’t equal the manpower and firepower that came nowhere close to downing her earlier. Nor do they have the element of surprise. But there’s no reasoning with Junior, who’s enraged and dead-set on extracting revenge for Carmine’s arrest He talks big in an effort to boost the guys’ morale: they have nothing to fear, she’s on her last legs, he’s got her number. And he hands Nick a baseball bat saying, “if all else fails, you take your best swing. I heard some things and saw some photos about this doing the trick for the Bertinellis, before they came up craps against her.” Just then they spot a video feed of Wonder Woman entering the tunnel and running straight for them at impossible speed. Four of them ready their guns and take positions while Nick cradles the bat behind them.
Wonder Woman slows down upon entering the hallway, sensing danger and hearing the sound of rounds getting chambered and metal scraping the walls as the guys position their artillery. The first two gunners lean out from their doorways and open fire simultaneously and Wonder Woman expertly deflects their machine-gun fire, with every bullet ricocheting back down the hall. Before they can reload, Wonder Woman tosses her tiara with uncanny accuracy so that it disarms one gunmen, then bounces across into the second, disarming him too. Both howl and grab their wrists in pain.
Junior then steps out of a doorway lifting a shotgun and hoping to blast Wonder Woman, but she is way too fast for him; she closes the distance in a flash and bends the shotgun’s barrel upwards and backwards before Junior can pull the trigger. Caught out of his depth, Junior can only stare wide-eyed at Wonder Woman as she hurls him into the wall with terrifying force, leaving a stunned Junior physically indented into the wall, out of the fight, squirming haplessly and pleading for help. The sight of Junior struggling to extract himself from the wall is downright comical and would provoke laughter from his crew — that is, if they weren’t otherwise occupied and fearful of crossing Junior.
Tommy then steps out of the opposite doorway and empties a clip to no avail, as Wonder Woman whirls to deflect each shot in rapid succession. Fast and resourceful, Tommy has a second handgun in his other hand and quickly squeezes off a couple of rounds from that. In her diminished condition, Wonder Woman is slowing a bit and just barely manages to get her other bracelet positioned to deflect these. As she does so, Tommy’s second shot ricochets into her left arm. It’s only a glancing wound but it draws blood and a noticeable grimace from Wonder Woman, who nonetheless manages to put Tommy down and out of commission by landing a picture-perfect right hook to his jaw.
Nick has been holding back, doubting that his bat can bring down a legend and fearing another tussle with the superheroine. But he’s emboldened to see that Tommy’s drawn blood and that Wonder Woman’s off by a step. When the other two guys recover enough to jump at her, she has no problem snatching them out of the air and holding them aloft, but she pauses a beat to gather herself before hurling them into opposite walls. Just as she’s disposing of them, Nick seizes the opening to swing his bat while her back is turned to him. It’s a rushed, clumsy, off-balance swing but it catches her unaware in the back of her head, which is jarred forward, leaving Wonder Woman more surprised and annoyed than injured. Still, Wonder Woman is out of sorts as she turns to face Nick and he manages another try. This time he swings the bat with more conviction, stepping into it. A slowing Wonder Woman gets one arm out to protect herself but merely cushions the blow — she doesn’t stop it. After being deflected downwards, the blow happens to land right in Wonder Woman’s solar plexus — the exact spot that Talia had struck with her parting blow. There’s no masking the resulting damage. Wonder Woman looks stricken, her eyes go wide with surprise, she falters and gasps, her face pales, and her arms fall to her sides. Junior sees the opening and yells at Nick to swing again for the same spot. Nick obliges and takes his hardest swing yet. This time Wonder Woman can’t get either arm up to deflect in time and the bat nails the bull’s eye — straight into her solar plexus — thereby delivering the decisive blow.
Wonder Woman immediately crumples to her knees, then collapses down to her hands, managing to keep her head raised mere inches above the ground. Blood drips from her mouth and starts pooling under her. Her worst wound, unhealed since the drubbing at Talia’s hands, has been reopened afresh. At this point, the fight is over and Wonder Woman has returned to teetering on the precipice. As testament to her fighting spirit, however, she somehow mounts a valiant effort to rise while Nick stands back watching — indulgently and bemusedly, curious to see how she’ll fare. As she endeavors to stand, she trembles awkwardly, like a newborn fawn trying to rise on its legs for the first time. Alas, Wonder Woman’s body can no longer keep pace with her will: her legs have turned to jelly; they give out under her and she again melts to the floor, panting pathetically. Her reserves have been utterly exhausted. Now she simply lies face down on the floor, striving to recover her breath, her senses, and her ability to function.
Nick gloats over her: “Guess you’re done taking me to school. Maybe I can return the favor by teaching you how to stand.” He laughs at his own cruel joke and says, “Or maybe I’d rather leave you right where you are.” He kicks hard straight into her midsection while she lies prone and panting, eliciting a weak, anguished “uuuuunnnnnhhhhhhh.” Nick kicks her once more in the same place. That leaves her writhing, coughing, wheezing for air. Nursing her grievous injury and hovering on the edge of consciousness, the once-mighty superheroine now emits only the most pitiful sights and sounds. Nick is turned on by observing how the goddess who’d tossed him through a window, effortlessly, has suddenly been reduced to trembling and whimpering at his feet. When he now lifts the bat high above his head, all Wonder Woman can do is cower beneath him. Nick shakes his head derisively and lets the bat slip through his fingers, then clatter harmlessly to the floor behind him. He looks down at her and says, slowly and matter-of-factly: “It’s over, hon. You’re ours. All ours.”
Knowing that they’ve won, the guys take their time pulling Junior out from the wall and getting Tommy back to his senses and walking around. But they also realize that the cops will be combing the neighborhood, and they are keen to get away clean. They all dust themselves off and gather around their downed opponent, congratulating Nick and slapping him on the back for coming through. Junior tells everyone, “We’re not quite done here yet.” Tommy takes the cue to pull Wonder Woman’s head up by her hair. He holds his gun to the side of her head and cocks the trigger; her only response is to flinch and shut her eyes tightly. But Junior lowers Tommy’s arm and says, “Cool it. We ain’t gonna be so kind. Dad and our contractor wouldn’t want that. They’d want this to be slower, more painful, more humiliating for her.” Instead, Junior reaches down towards Wonder Woman’s waist and, with her powers short-circuited and flickering off, tugs her belt off without the expected resistance. Stripped of her belt, even her healing powers abandon her and mortal peril looms.
Junior tells the two gunners to hold her up for him. They oblige, pulling Wonder Woman to her feet, which merely dangle, as do her arms. Junior lifts her head up by her chin, stares closely and intently into her eyes, and says, “We’ll need to break up our routine, babe. This is getting old and tired. Let’s plan to inject some romance next time.” Wonder Woman strains and squirms, feebly and futilely, against the mens’ grip. She speaks to Junior in bold, defiant terms that are betrayed by her voice, which hesitates and falters. “Your bad apple will … will dis- … disintegrate alongside the fall- … fallen tree of your father.” Junior puts his finger to his mouth and says, “Shhhhhh. You’ll want to save your breath.” He then pulls back his fist and throws a vicious punch straight into Wonder Woman’s gut. Precious air she’s gathered is brutally expelled with an “oooommmmppppphhhhhh” and more blood drips from her mouth. She moans, “Yoooouuuuu caaannnntttt . . . “ Without letting her finish, Junior says “Oh yes we can. Just watch us. I’m taking this as far as I want” — now he grabs her crotch and squeezes with impunity, producing a gasp from her as she hangs limp in his guys’ arms — “and you’re gonna regret ever messing with the Falcones.” Junior then loads up on another punch and delivers it even harder into Wonder Woman’s gut. This time she is lifted off the ground, doubled straight over, and left coughing and gasping for air that won’t come.
Junior waits patiently for his guys to pull her back up and for her to stabilize, which takes time. Wonder Woman’s face has now gone ghastly pale, heightening the contrast with the blood around her mouth; her features have gone slack; her eyes have glazed over. The most Wonder Woman can do is float a faint, final prayer in a raspy whisper, “Herrrraaaa hellllppp . . .” Bending over to hear her, Junior interrupts with exaggerated tenderness, pinching her lips shut with his right hand while using his left hand to gently smear the blood from around her mouth directly over her lips, as though he’s applying lipstick for her. He mocks and matches her soft whisper with his own hushed voice as he speaks closely and intimately back to Wonder Woman. Yet his ice-cold words betray his feigned tenderness: “No Hera here. No help coming. Your boy Vinny’s all done and so are you,” he whispers back. Then he throws one last punch targeted straight at Wonder Woman’s solar plexus. This blow delivers unbearable pain and plunges her into lasting, all-enveloping blackness.
Nothing but the enemy’s support has been keeping Wonder Woman up. As soon as the guys release her, she falls back to the wall, then slowly slides down it. The unconscious Wonder Woman finally slumps to the floor in a sitting position, with her back propped against the wall, her legs outstretched in front of her, her arms hanging slack, and her head slumping over her chest. In that position, Wonder Woman now sits deathly still, eyes completely shut, with blood seeping down from her mouth and onto the upper portion of her breasts, then trickling down to her brassiere. She could not be any more helpless, nor could her fate be in any worse hands . . . .
-
DrDominator9
- Emissary
- Posts: 2460
- Joined: 13 years ago
- Location: On the Border of the Neutral Zone
WW is in a world of hurt here. Excellent chapter 
Very nice.
(VI. THE TRANSFORMATION, continued and concluded)
. . . The only remaining question for the guys is what to do with their improbable conquest. Junior already has his answer. “The costume comes off. All of it. She doesn’t need or deserve it, and we don’t want to bring any more heat or clues with us. We’ll dress her up like our other girls, no better and no worse.” The guys dutifully pull off her costume bit by bit — starting with the belt, lasso and other accessories, then the brassiere, then finally the briefs, until at last Wonder Woman lies completely, astonishingly, perfectly nude before them. There’s no time for extracurriculars as the guys carry out Junior’s instruction, but they can’t resist gazing upon her naked splendor, now fully revealed to them. Shorn of her costume, Wonder Woman lies before them as the most sublime centerfold ever seen: her peerless physique shines undisguised; her bronze flesh glistens; and she proves to be carefully shaven as though awaiting such intimate examination. Her only visible imperfections are the many bruises and scrapes that Talia has etched across her, which only highlight her plight. Junior’s small crew now eyes her as meat — the most tantalizing, tender, delectable meat — and they salivate over their coming feast.
After looking her up and down, Junior remarks, “Now that’s more like it. The clothes only hold her back.” Pointing to the groomed, narrow strip of her dark pubes, he cracks, “at least she’s still got her fighting trim.” Tommy asks, ‘Whada we do with her costume?” Junior answers: “Leave it. We don’t want to help anyone identify her. And Wondy will become our Number One attraction without anyone knowing who she really is. Check out the hots on her this way. She’s off the charts; none of our other girls can even compete. Hell, let’s call her ‘Wendy’ (he emphasizes the “e”). Her past can be our little secret. Once we get her onboarded and, y’know, into the swing of things, all of this will be a distant, fading memory. Wendy here will be too busy turning tricks to pine for her glory days. We just need a new outfit for her. What did we do with the one for that other girl, the one who didn’t make it?”
One of the guys produces a flimsy black teddy, with a plunging, mesh neckline. Junior says, “That’ll do nicely.” One guy holds Wonder Woman up while another quickly and roughly slides the teddy over her, lingering a beat over her breasts and whistling. The teddy makes for a fetching fit. Most of her ass protrudes enticingly from the thong in back while her long, lithe legs are generously featured by the high-cut design; her impressive cleavage is adventurously displayed as the fabric plunges to cover only the lower portion of her breasts; her wondrous nipples are plainly visible through the transparent mesh. Substitution of the skimpy black teddy for her famed costume has indeed transformed the heroic “Wondy” into the downtrodden “Wendy.”
As they exit through the garage, the bad guys check to make sure the driveway and street outside are clear for them, which they are. Tommy warns that their next stop had better be to the doctor if they want to keep their prize alive, remarking to Junior, “I worried that one of your punches would split her open like a watermelon. She’s gotta be busted open inside,” and he points to the the ring of blood that’s dribbled from her mouth and formed around her luscious lips. Junior embraces the suggestion: “Good idea. And we’ll get her so dosed up there that she won’t know or care what her name was.” While carrying their long guns, the guys try dragging their helpless captive to the car but she remains utterly comatose and her legs sadly scrape against the floor. Junior passes off an assault rifle he’s lugging and says: “No more scratching the merchandise,” and he scoops up Wonder Woman/Wendy so as to cradle her in his arms. Thus she lies under his power and at his mercy, scantily clad and spilling out of her revealing lingerie. As Junior ports his conquest towards the car, his crotch bulges conspicuously. The rub and promise of his outstretched captive, yielding to him as she dangles all-but-nude in his arms, are producing an unabashed, prodigious erection that juts into her pliant, exquisite form with every step.
Wonder Woman would be repulsed, indignant, aghast to find herself so exposed and so compromised in Junior’s lecherous, intrusive grasp if she retained any awareness, but she has none whatsoever. Instead, she is lost in perilous slumber while Junior carries her forward into a deepening nightmare. At the same time, Talia al Gaul is rejoicing somewhere: Her cruel vision for the Amazing Amazon could not be any better fulfilled.
When they reach the get-away car, a nondescript black Audi, the guys deposit their captive onto the back seat, but Junior says they don’t want anyone to see her, nor do they want her traveling “first class.” Junior then rolls her to the car floor, where she lies outstretched on her stomach, at their feet. Her position there couldn’t be much worse: her beautiful face is turned towards the back seat and her left cheek is smooshed against the floor of the car; her ample breasts spill out from her flimsy teddy and onto the floor; and her supple, bent legs tilt her thonged buttocks suggestively upwards. Junior, Tommy and Nick enjoy prime position as they ride on the back seat and exploit the wondrous specimen that keeps beckoning to them; they take turns groping her at their leisure. Once she begins to stir, ever so slightly, the guys make a game out of seeing who can elicit the best moan from her. It’s a spirited competition that proves too close to call.
After the car turns away from the police who’re still fanning the crime scene, nothing stands in its way. No one notices anything amiss when the black Audi slides smoothly away with a secret stash safely strewn inside. As the car hurtles forward into the night, the road back for Wonder Woman vanishes behind it while a dark journey for Wendy opens ahead.
VII. THE POSTSCRIPT
Having canvassed the neighborhood door to door, Trevor and his team finally arrive at the gang’s formerly secret safe-house. Trevor’s summoned over by an officer with a grim expression, who says “You need to see this.” He shows Trevor where Wonder Woman’s signature costume lies in the hallway and points out, “there’s blood on it — we’re not yet sure whose but it doesn’t look good. There was another round of intense fighting — complete with gunfire and folks getting thrown around into walls — but all of the perps somehow got away clean. There’s no way she’d let them walk, is there?” Trevor is speechless as he looks at the costume, reacting with a mixture of fury and dismay. After gathering himself, he croaks, “No, there’s no way she’d let them off, and no way that she’d drop her costume. That belt is . . . it’s important to her. But how could they have gotten her? Where would they have taken her?” No one has an answer.
Trevor steps away to report into IRAC and seek guidance. IRAC’s response is dispiriting: Plans to sell and transport Wonder Woman have apparently been thwarted and the Falcone family has been plunged into chaos and forced into hibernation. Still, splinters of Falcone’s network extend throughout the city and beyond, and they’ll now continue to operate while burrowing further underground. Assuming they’ve now claimed Wonder Woman as theirs, there’s no telling where she may be or what they’re planning for her. Any concerted offensive to recover her might only get her killed, assuming she’s still alive. But she won’t be able to overcome their operation after falling to it; without her belt, she lacks any ostensible means of escaping their clutches. Therefore, unless someone can somehow find her, infiltrate the operation undercover, and pull off a discreet rescue mission, Wonder Woman’s future will be extremely bleak — or, as IRAC adds, quite possibly nonexistent. Of course, IADC’s best operative for any such mission would be Diana Prince, who’s also out of commission, IRAC confides.
After listening intently, Steve Trevor looks once more at the discarded, blood-stained costume, piled in the hallway. With gloved hands, he picks it up for closer examination and inhales the perfume of her sweat, which still hangs heavily over the garments. Memories of his last moments with her come flooding back in his mind. He realizes that the costume’s inspirational colors and eye-catching design now afford the sole remaining trace of the angel who’d graced it like no mortal could. Trevor drops the costume, buries his face in his hands, and shakes his head in disbelief.
Even amidst Trevor’s deepening despair, however, he cannot possibly imagine the present predicament of his transcendent champion: On the outskirts of the city, Wendy has been carted from an unlicensed mob doctor’s office to an ultra-exclusive, off-the-grid brothel, to be its newest, hottest attraction. She’s indecently clad in her scandalous black teddy and splayed across the couch as eye-candy decorating the VIP room. There she lies dazed and helpless, under the spell of heavy barbiturates. Surrounding her are the most loathsome criminal elements. Beside her is Junior, who is now draping his overreaching, filthy paws all over her as he pleases. All of these villains can have their wicked way with her, without knowing or caring how low she’s tumbled from former heights. In her new incarnation, she is slated solely to satisfy debauched desires and to serve as an overqualified plaything — living precisely the sort of dismal, defiled existence that Talia dreamed up for her. Her powers are gone; her faculties are fogged; her costume has been shorn away; her heroism and exploits are beyond sight; even her name is buried. Can Wonder Woman ever come back, other than in memories?
TO BE CONTINUED …..?
. . . The only remaining question for the guys is what to do with their improbable conquest. Junior already has his answer. “The costume comes off. All of it. She doesn’t need or deserve it, and we don’t want to bring any more heat or clues with us. We’ll dress her up like our other girls, no better and no worse.” The guys dutifully pull off her costume bit by bit — starting with the belt, lasso and other accessories, then the brassiere, then finally the briefs, until at last Wonder Woman lies completely, astonishingly, perfectly nude before them. There’s no time for extracurriculars as the guys carry out Junior’s instruction, but they can’t resist gazing upon her naked splendor, now fully revealed to them. Shorn of her costume, Wonder Woman lies before them as the most sublime centerfold ever seen: her peerless physique shines undisguised; her bronze flesh glistens; and she proves to be carefully shaven as though awaiting such intimate examination. Her only visible imperfections are the many bruises and scrapes that Talia has etched across her, which only highlight her plight. Junior’s small crew now eyes her as meat — the most tantalizing, tender, delectable meat — and they salivate over their coming feast.
After looking her up and down, Junior remarks, “Now that’s more like it. The clothes only hold her back.” Pointing to the groomed, narrow strip of her dark pubes, he cracks, “at least she’s still got her fighting trim.” Tommy asks, ‘Whada we do with her costume?” Junior answers: “Leave it. We don’t want to help anyone identify her. And Wondy will become our Number One attraction without anyone knowing who she really is. Check out the hots on her this way. She’s off the charts; none of our other girls can even compete. Hell, let’s call her ‘Wendy’ (he emphasizes the “e”). Her past can be our little secret. Once we get her onboarded and, y’know, into the swing of things, all of this will be a distant, fading memory. Wendy here will be too busy turning tricks to pine for her glory days. We just need a new outfit for her. What did we do with the one for that other girl, the one who didn’t make it?”
One of the guys produces a flimsy black teddy, with a plunging, mesh neckline. Junior says, “That’ll do nicely.” One guy holds Wonder Woman up while another quickly and roughly slides the teddy over her, lingering a beat over her breasts and whistling. The teddy makes for a fetching fit. Most of her ass protrudes enticingly from the thong in back while her long, lithe legs are generously featured by the high-cut design; her impressive cleavage is adventurously displayed as the fabric plunges to cover only the lower portion of her breasts; her wondrous nipples are plainly visible through the transparent mesh. Substitution of the skimpy black teddy for her famed costume has indeed transformed the heroic “Wondy” into the downtrodden “Wendy.”
As they exit through the garage, the bad guys check to make sure the driveway and street outside are clear for them, which they are. Tommy warns that their next stop had better be to the doctor if they want to keep their prize alive, remarking to Junior, “I worried that one of your punches would split her open like a watermelon. She’s gotta be busted open inside,” and he points to the the ring of blood that’s dribbled from her mouth and formed around her luscious lips. Junior embraces the suggestion: “Good idea. And we’ll get her so dosed up there that she won’t know or care what her name was.” While carrying their long guns, the guys try dragging their helpless captive to the car but she remains utterly comatose and her legs sadly scrape against the floor. Junior passes off an assault rifle he’s lugging and says: “No more scratching the merchandise,” and he scoops up Wonder Woman/Wendy so as to cradle her in his arms. Thus she lies under his power and at his mercy, scantily clad and spilling out of her revealing lingerie. As Junior ports his conquest towards the car, his crotch bulges conspicuously. The rub and promise of his outstretched captive, yielding to him as she dangles all-but-nude in his arms, are producing an unabashed, prodigious erection that juts into her pliant, exquisite form with every step.
Wonder Woman would be repulsed, indignant, aghast to find herself so exposed and so compromised in Junior’s lecherous, intrusive grasp if she retained any awareness, but she has none whatsoever. Instead, she is lost in perilous slumber while Junior carries her forward into a deepening nightmare. At the same time, Talia al Gaul is rejoicing somewhere: Her cruel vision for the Amazing Amazon could not be any better fulfilled.
When they reach the get-away car, a nondescript black Audi, the guys deposit their captive onto the back seat, but Junior says they don’t want anyone to see her, nor do they want her traveling “first class.” Junior then rolls her to the car floor, where she lies outstretched on her stomach, at their feet. Her position there couldn’t be much worse: her beautiful face is turned towards the back seat and her left cheek is smooshed against the floor of the car; her ample breasts spill out from her flimsy teddy and onto the floor; and her supple, bent legs tilt her thonged buttocks suggestively upwards. Junior, Tommy and Nick enjoy prime position as they ride on the back seat and exploit the wondrous specimen that keeps beckoning to them; they take turns groping her at their leisure. Once she begins to stir, ever so slightly, the guys make a game out of seeing who can elicit the best moan from her. It’s a spirited competition that proves too close to call.
After the car turns away from the police who’re still fanning the crime scene, nothing stands in its way. No one notices anything amiss when the black Audi slides smoothly away with a secret stash safely strewn inside. As the car hurtles forward into the night, the road back for Wonder Woman vanishes behind it while a dark journey for Wendy opens ahead.
VII. THE POSTSCRIPT
Having canvassed the neighborhood door to door, Trevor and his team finally arrive at the gang’s formerly secret safe-house. Trevor’s summoned over by an officer with a grim expression, who says “You need to see this.” He shows Trevor where Wonder Woman’s signature costume lies in the hallway and points out, “there’s blood on it — we’re not yet sure whose but it doesn’t look good. There was another round of intense fighting — complete with gunfire and folks getting thrown around into walls — but all of the perps somehow got away clean. There’s no way she’d let them walk, is there?” Trevor is speechless as he looks at the costume, reacting with a mixture of fury and dismay. After gathering himself, he croaks, “No, there’s no way she’d let them off, and no way that she’d drop her costume. That belt is . . . it’s important to her. But how could they have gotten her? Where would they have taken her?” No one has an answer.
Trevor steps away to report into IRAC and seek guidance. IRAC’s response is dispiriting: Plans to sell and transport Wonder Woman have apparently been thwarted and the Falcone family has been plunged into chaos and forced into hibernation. Still, splinters of Falcone’s network extend throughout the city and beyond, and they’ll now continue to operate while burrowing further underground. Assuming they’ve now claimed Wonder Woman as theirs, there’s no telling where she may be or what they’re planning for her. Any concerted offensive to recover her might only get her killed, assuming she’s still alive. But she won’t be able to overcome their operation after falling to it; without her belt, she lacks any ostensible means of escaping their clutches. Therefore, unless someone can somehow find her, infiltrate the operation undercover, and pull off a discreet rescue mission, Wonder Woman’s future will be extremely bleak — or, as IRAC adds, quite possibly nonexistent. Of course, IADC’s best operative for any such mission would be Diana Prince, who’s also out of commission, IRAC confides.
After listening intently, Steve Trevor looks once more at the discarded, blood-stained costume, piled in the hallway. With gloved hands, he picks it up for closer examination and inhales the perfume of her sweat, which still hangs heavily over the garments. Memories of his last moments with her come flooding back in his mind. He realizes that the costume’s inspirational colors and eye-catching design now afford the sole remaining trace of the angel who’d graced it like no mortal could. Trevor drops the costume, buries his face in his hands, and shakes his head in disbelief.
Even amidst Trevor’s deepening despair, however, he cannot possibly imagine the present predicament of his transcendent champion: On the outskirts of the city, Wendy has been carted from an unlicensed mob doctor’s office to an ultra-exclusive, off-the-grid brothel, to be its newest, hottest attraction. She’s indecently clad in her scandalous black teddy and splayed across the couch as eye-candy decorating the VIP room. There she lies dazed and helpless, under the spell of heavy barbiturates. Surrounding her are the most loathsome criminal elements. Beside her is Junior, who is now draping his overreaching, filthy paws all over her as he pleases. All of these villains can have their wicked way with her, without knowing or caring how low she’s tumbled from former heights. In her new incarnation, she is slated solely to satisfy debauched desires and to serve as an overqualified plaything — living precisely the sort of dismal, defiled existence that Talia dreamed up for her. Her powers are gone; her faculties are fogged; her costume has been shorn away; her heroism and exploits are beyond sight; even her name is buried. Can Wonder Woman ever come back, other than in memories?
TO BE CONTINUED …..?
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DrDominator9
- Emissary
- Posts: 2460
- Joined: 13 years ago
- Location: On the Border of the Neutral Zone
Superb!
Sorry end(?) for our heroine.
I hope you continue this storyline as I'm pretty much invested in the story now.
Great work!
I hope you continue this storyline as I'm pretty much invested in the story now.
Great work!
Yes, please continue. I think we all want to know all of the intimate details of her life as a prostitute. Who knows, maybe she escapes to fight again? And be captured again. Or gets brainwashed into being the perfect, obedient, eager to please sex slave to the Falcones.
inquiring minds want to know.
inquiring minds want to know.