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Part VI
Diana
For the second time in as many days the Pacifier stood open, it dark haired occupant breathing the cool filtered air of the spacious white concrete room as she gathered her strength during the respite. The only sound now was the faint steady rhythm of her breathing, but in her mind Diana could still hear Starfire and Donna’s screams as they were tortured, and then raped.
They had raped her sister.
Not only that, they had made her watch the act while she herself was strapped virtually naked into their obscene device and tortured continuously. Her body cut, torn, shocked, twisted and burned while the men outside had observed every depraved moment of her ordeal, and in turn forced her to bear witness to her sister’s sexual degradation. Not once, but over and over. As the probes had sliced her skin, scorched her belly and thighs, sent searing surges of energy into her breasts and nipples, and probed the nerve clusters between her amazing legs with pain inducing needles, she had seen Donna being mounted by the anonymous mercenary and the man rut in her womanhood. In slow motion, rewound and shown from multiple angles, paused and the image zoomed in - she had been inundated with the sight of his stiffened member pushing Donna’s sweet young lips apart as his foul emissions coated the entry of her female temple. Hours of listening to her sister’s curses and sobs, the laughter of the men and the sickening slap of flesh against flesh as the rapists pumped their engorged members in and out of their courageous, helpless victims. Until, at last, their seed spurted loose to soak the captive’s battered loins and the view had been reset to begin the awful spectacle again.
She wet her lips, felt the tears stinging the corners of her eyes and forced them away. She was a Justice Leaguer, she was a Princess of the Amazons. She was Wonder Woman.
They had raped her sister.
Diana raised her head slowly and saw Savage standing in front of her, smiling like a foreign diplomat as he once again looked over her battered body without the slightest compassion or remorse.
‘Still feeling witty, your highness?’ the dark bearded immortal said, smile unwavering.
Diana said nothing; she simply spat a heft gobbet of fluid onto his immaculately shined riding boots.
Savage looked down at the offending material and sighed. ‘I suppose I’m going to have to have one of your amazons lick those clean again,’ she said. ‘Perhaps your sister…’
Diana reacted instinctively, hurling her full power against the restraints keeping her from Savage’s throat. Despite being rated at resisting thousands of tons per square inch the Pacifier rocked with a thunderous clang. The technicians about the room jumped in fear as the manacles barely succeeded in holding the gorgeous super heroine captive.
Savage , however, did not move, merely viewing the struggling Amazon impassively as she strained with all her power to escape, face tight with effort and her fingers twitching with passion. The muscles of her incredible physique moved sinuously beneath her bruised and battered skin, goddess breasts heaving as she glared at him with a look that made the description homicidal seem tame.
Fearlessly Savage took a step closer, standing only a foot from Diana’s sweat streaked face as her lips parted in snarl. ‘Well,’ he smiled, reaching down to carefully caress the array of metal skewers positioned level with the heroine’s neatly trimmed womanhood, ‘it would seem these aren’t the only things to have struck a nerve today.’
Diana finally found the composure she
needed to be able to speak with this animal. ‘Your immortality is done,
monster. I swear by the dark eyes of
Hades you will not leave this
Savage laughed lightly. ‘You’re wrong Princess, or perhaps simply naive. For example, you might be under the impression that the wider world and its heroes will come to the aid of you and your friends and sisters. Rest assured, steps have been taken to ensure that they are completely unaware of what is transpiring here. By the time Superman, Batman, and the rest of the planet learns of what we have done, you and your companions will be long past caring.’
Diana took another steadying breath – as always Savage was the epitome of composure, his confidence buoyed by millennia of experience. The Themyscrian forced herself to remember the first time she had met him in person, when the enchantress Morgan Le Fay had captured them both and several others, in order to torture them for the extraction of their immortal essence. It was only after Diana had freed herself and defeated the ancient witch that it was revealed that Savage could have himself escaped at any time, allowing his own capture and torture simply to alleviate his boredom.
Diana hated this creature in front of her as she had never hated anyone before, but her training and discipline kept those feelings in check. Savage was evil, but also crafty, resourceful, even courageous in his fashion. Allowing her disgust to blind herself to those realities would not help her or her friends.
‘What do you want here, Savage,’ Diana said in a coldly calm voice. ‘You and Deathstroke and the others; you didn’t go to all this trouble and risk just for our benefit.’
Savage sniffed and reached out to stroked her shoulder. It took all her control not to flinch away from the touch. ‘So humble,’ he said, and his fingers ran down from her collarbone to the top of one curving breast. Diana didn’t let herself watch his hand, blinking slowly. ‘And so wise, though I’m sure you underestimate your value in some quarters of the so called ‘villainous’ community. There are a great many men who would risk much more for the chance to see,’ he paused and his fingers travelled down the steep curve of her breast, and then flicked over one perfectly round nipple, teasing it to semi erectness while Diana swallowed, ‘ and to touch what I do right now.’
His hand cupped her breast, aggravating the pain from the burns and lacerations that blemished the otherwise perfect flesh. Diana ignored the hurt as she ignored the humiliation of her captor’s intimate fondling of her female globes. ‘But of course you are correct, my dear Wonder Woman. Neither your friends, or even you, are our primary reason for being here. Though you are an integral part of our plan.’
‘Is that so?’ Diana said in a neutral voice. Keeping her voice even and talking to this filth was probably the hardest thing she had ever done.
‘While I personally do not feel the need, there are many parties both on Earth and beyond who you have offended with your heroic efforts.’ Savage’s hand left her breast and his fingers traced the hard plain of her abdomen. Diana felt as if slime fron a cesspit were oozing over her. ‘It was not difficult to find partners for our venture here in return for the opportunity to exact a very…,’ he smiled again, as if he were revealing some small secret, ‘…personal level of revenge on your lovely self.’
Diana glanced around at the instruments of pain poised inside the pacifier shell to resume their nightmarish work on her. She had though she recognized some of the machinery, though the last time she had viewed them she had been semi-conscious. ‘White Martians,’ she said quietly.
Savage smiled wider, and his hand massaged her belly just below the navel. ‘Very good highness,’ she said with a mock nod. ‘Yes, the few of their number that survived their encounters with the League provided some of the technology used in the pacifier from their so called Flower of Pain.’ His hand dipped, his fingers moving to slide along the soft crease of her feminine centre. ‘I trust the machines ministrations have not left you permanently debilitated?’
Diana felt a sharp discomfort as his digits applied pressure to her sensitive quim, still smarting from the needle probes that had pierced her over and over until she had though she would go mad with the effort to suppress her screams. She looked down at where he was rubbing between her legs and then back up at Savage. ‘Take you hand off,’ she said in a quiet but deadly voice.
Savage made no move to comply, but instead rubbed more firmly, Diana feeling the pressure behind her labia on the inside of her sex. He used one finger to part her lips just a little. ‘Do you feel helpless, Princess.’
Murderous was more like it, but Diana kept her calm. ‘Remove your hand from my person – now!’
Again Savage continued as if she had not spoken. He looked down at where his finger was now resting between the folds of soft smooth flesh. The woman was dry, but that hardly mattered. He pushed his finger in knuckle down, a shallow jab between her nether lips so the top of his finger was enclosed in a soft wrapping of pussy. Diana remained perfectly still, Savage admiring her control. He was keen to test just how good that control was. ‘Do you suppose this is how your sister felt, just before our man raped her?’
Diana’s nostrils flared as she drew in a breath. Her lovely face twitched with barely concealed fury, her muscles bunching so that the villain could feel it where his finger was diddling her unwilling love breach.
‘Helpless, abandoned, totally alone.’ He pushed deeper, able to discern the moist folds inside the captive heroine as he wiggled his finger, questing up into her. ‘Afraid. Ashamed.’ His second knuckle had reached her pussy cleft now, and he let his hand move back and forth, penetrating her gently but firmly while he watched her mouth grow tight and her breasts quiver with her outrage. He moved his finger so it applied soft pressure to the bump at the top of her opening. ‘How do you feel, Princess?’
With the vile beast’s finger on her clitoris, Diana’s throat was so tight she could not reply for a moment. Her eyes held the cold fury of an artic storm. ‘Glad I’m not you,’ she said, the words heavy with contempt and menace.
Savage stepped so close that his chest brushed against her outthrust breasts. He pushed his hand up, getting his greedy finger all the way inside her and pressing her pussy with the palm of his hand. He rubbed her gently, stimulating the small kaleidoscope of nerves under its hood of skin so that she felt sick at his mockery of tenderness.
‘While at this moment, I would not be anyone else,’ he whispered. He thrust his finger once, twice, pushing up into the very heart of her, suing his vast experience at how to touch a woman to humiliate her while she held herself motionless and her stomach roiled with nausea.
Suddenly she felt a sharp pain in her neck. Glancing across she saw Savage’s other hand holding a syringe to her and pushing its contents firmly down the needle and into her bloodstream.
‘Goodnight,’ sweet Princess, she said
softly, as Diana blinked and swooned.
The last thing she saw was Savage smiling like a benevolent patron as
she felt his finger still sliding in and out of her womanhood.
In a room not far away, two shadowed figures sat poised in front of their monitors, both tense with anticipation of what would happen next.
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