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Review This Story || Author: DarthSaad

Wonder Woman: Hell in Paradise (Part 2)

Part 2

Part

II

 

Diana

 

 The armoured Sangtee noble nodded to the warrior next to him, who turned and picked up the neural whip.  Diana remembered its lashing kiss all to well during her slavery. She felt her heart sink...and her blood boil. Instinctively she stood upright, facing her captor, her legs spread, arms pinned back.    Her black pirate uniform felt much less sturdy than her battle armour as it clung to her exquisite curves.  She steadied her breathing...not wanting to make a show of her proud bosom heaving in front of those pigs.  The Sangtee were not really supposed to care about her female charms of course, but Diana did not delude herself by thinking they would be the only ones watching.

   

“Where shall we start general?   Let us save her face 'til last.”  The courtier pondered, gloating over his prisoner. “Let’s see if you can undress her with the whips caress. That should teach her to undress more willingly in the future!”

 

 “Agreed,” said the warrior, speaking for the first time.  His voice was deep and terse.  “I have heard many rumours among our warriors of this ones abilities.  “Let us see how resilient her thin woman body really is.”

 

 He activated a control on his glove and Diana felt the bonds holding her wrists behind her pulling up and back, forcing her to bend at the waist to expose her back and flanks. White-hot hatred flashed through her mind at being manipulated and forced into this position, the more so because she was certain by exerting her full strength she could overload the drives of the machine hauling up her wrists.  She longed to give them a display of true Amazon power, but the screen before showed the two Russian women still weeping, trying to console each other. And so, she stayed silent, and leaned forward.

 

She heard the hum as the energy whip was activated.

 

Diana closed her eyes and steeled herself.  "This will hurt," she heard the general say, "and you are not to suppress any sounds of pain!" You are required to give voice to your suffering; understand, slut!?`

 

Diana said nothing, but nodded tightly, not looking at him. She was keeping her eyes fixed to the wall, trying to focus on a place far from this terrible room.  Time seemed to crawl as she waited for the stroke.  And then...

 

The humming of the neural whip increasing as it was flung through the air, playfully. The alien was testing its flexibility. She did not flinch, controlling her fear.  The general grunted in surprise;   this one would take great deal of persuasion, it seemed.

 

Diana flexed her toes, waiting without sign of apprehension, but squirming inside. Just get on with it, scum, she thought,   while her fingers twitched a little behind her back, her breasts staining against the bustier as she leaned over.  Ass tight, her back a smooth slope of skin and black spandex.

 

The whip uncoiled suddenly, smacking like a lighting bolt across her back!  Diana felt the blow, the filament sending the sting of a hundred scorpion strikes into her nervous system. 

 

This was the hideous genius of the device – it could make the victim feel the pain of having her flesh flayed from her body, while leaving her physically undamaged. The whips were deviously crafted instruments of pain, created to adjust to the unique bioelectric field of living beings and inflict suffering by disrupting that energy field via the electrical impulses of the victim’s nervous system.  Each blow of the lash would make the whip more sensitive to its targets energy signature, and thereby increase the woman’s pain.  The process would continue until the person using the whip locked the setting or used it on another target, thereby resetting the lash to its “default” position.

 

Diana had felt the pain of the neural-whip often in the slave camp, both on her own behalf, and when she had been shielding other, weaker females from its cruelty.  The lives of their slaves had meant less than nothing to the Sangtee, and it had not been unusual for them to flog a slave to death for no apparent reason beyond wanton sadism. Even though the device caused minimal physical damage, the ever-increasing pain of the blows was usually enough to destroy a victim’s nervous system within a dozen stokes, unless the one using it had locked it to a fixed setting.  Even without being permitted to reach maximum, the trauma suffered by repeated blows could be enough to cause seizures or cardiac arrest after sustained torture.

 

Diana bore the pain now, remembering with loathing the times she had endured this awful process in the camp, biding her time until she could reveal her full abilities with the certainty of escape. She grunted, the pain flaring across her lower back as he coiled it to strike again.  She felt a coolness on her skin as the metal thread pf the device tore the thin material with ease, exposing her smooth flesh under it.  This was another piece of perverse genius by the Sangtee – the lash would rip a victim's clothes to shreds with ease, but leave her skin virtually unmarked.  Diana did not pretend to understand the science behind the device, any more than the twisted hatred that had spawned it.  She understood only the pain it inflicted, and her need to suffer it to keep her friend and her daughter from further agony.

 

 Holding the whip loosely, the General watched her body absorb his blow, giving a low sigh of pleasure. Like Diana he knew the whip would not flay her flesh as conventional ones did, allowing her to absorb much more pain.  Unlike her though, he knew that his particular model had been upgraded to not only disrupt the targets neural network but also to stimulate certain parts of the female brain, making sure that she would stay conscious and aware of her suffering. Tests had shown that this new feature meant that the hated female target could be kept screaming in total agony for hours, right up to the point where her pathetic body shut down in death, without ever having to pause to revive her.  He was aching to see how long this particular slut would last before her inferior physicality finally gave out under the ever-mounting pain.

  

The whip stung her again, this time it landing squarely on her buttocks and its tip lashing into her lower belly.  Diana cried out, fighting every instinct to stay silent, but still holding back the appropriate response for pain of that magnitude.  The suffering was every bit as bad as she remembered - worse, perhaps.   No doubt, the Sangtee had refined their tools of subjugating females.  Her body could defy the strength of conventional blows, but this struck right at her pain receptors, the whip ploughing a harvest of anguish in the very fibres of her being.

 

“Louder, bitch,” the Noble said, watching her ass wiggle as the whip drew back across it.  The other alien threw the lash back and cut at the Amazon again...this time letting the whip snap up against her dangling breasts.  With a hideous snap it hit both at once, the whip sending its crackling pain into her mammal nerve-endings, glances and breast-meat.  Diana screamed, more in anger than suffering, though the pain was great.  Her exposed tit tops reddened under the horrible caress, her bustier torn so that it barely clung to her fulsome boobs.

 

Having set his target with his first strike the General lashed her breasts again, tearing away more black material and laying her welted skin bare.  Her shoulders hauled back by her chained wrists Diana could do nothing to protect her boobs, and a dozen blows cracked against the twin bulging chest orbs.  With each strike the pain increased exponentially, doubling and redoubling.  A normal woman would have died at the twelfth strike – a super-fit female like Black Canary or Huntress might have survived long enough to die screaming at the fifteenth.

 

All told Diana’s tits took twenty cuts of the lash.

 

By the time the twentieth had slithered from her tits Diana could barely remember where she was, beyond that she needed to somehow pay attention to the screen in front of her, what it was telling her to do.  Hanging down beneath her amid the slivers of her pirate garb her tits throbbed and burned like sacks of molten steel that had be glued to her chest for her torture.  She shook fitfully, her ass clenched as she stood bent at the waist and moaned on cue.

 

"Ah, yes!" the noble sighed. "You are a slut after all.  And sluts are most appropriately punished there,” his violet eyes drank in the view of her battered cleavage, then travelled south,” ...and...there!" he said, nodding at his accomplice holding the whip. Diana sucked in air, blinking,  dreading his meaning.  The whip recoiled and hit her again...this time right between her legs.

   

It took an endless second for the pain to hit, and then the heroine known as Wonder Woman opened her mouth and screamed!

 

“AAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRR!!”

 

 Even though she hated herself, she was secretly glad for the excuse to cry out - her womanhood was on fire! It felt as if it had been doused in rocket fuel and set alight.  The crotch of her tight pants was torn away in a flare of energy that left her pink slit peeking through the ragged remains of modesty.

 

The noble sighed again and opened his robe, exposing his hard, mauve-skinned cock behind it.  “As it is meant to be," he purred, "for the female to endure pain so we may have our pleasure!"

 

Dian longed to tell him to fuck himself, but bit her tongue, since the work with hands on his engorged manhood made it clear that was his intention anyway. She concentrated on trying to ignore the agony festering between her long legs.  It hurt so much!  The heat burning across her back, breasts and labia contrasted with the chill across her skin as she perspired freely, glowing under the rooms lights.

 

The General gave another strike from behind, curling the cord of the whip up under her so that the very tip snapped against her groin.  Diana’s head pulled back and she bucked forward.  She remembered seeing the nearal device used against Donna and Starfire as they were raped, and prayed that it had not been as horribly painful as this.

 

For the third time her pussy was struck; by now her pant offered little protection from the Sangtee’s staring eyes, little alone the terrible whip.  The cord tore at her outer lips, almost penetrating her.

 

“GAAAAAAAAAAAAA!”

 

The screen in front of her flickered to life.   "Read out loud, slut!" the Noble commanded, as a message became visible on the viewer.

 

Diana blinked the sweat from her eyes and lifted her head as much as she could. She read the words, her mouth full of bile at the sight.   “Please,” she hissed, forming the word with an effort of will, “stop.”

 

The Noble smiled broadly, as another message came on. Diana swallowed and spoke the words almost inaudibly.  “It hurts,” she husked.

 

The General sneered and pulled back his arm - clearly, this bitch needed stronger motivation. He eyed her full tits, still partially covered.

 

Diana heard the male behind her moving and fought to control her shakes.  Days of torture, both physical and psychological, had taken a toll of her strength.  Her fabulous, welt-creased body was held up now by the bindings about her wrists and ankles.

 

The big Sangtee set down the whip and turned to one of the sets of devices near the wall.  Quickly he shed the gauntlets of his armour and put on a pair of newly developed gloves...studded with filaments made of the same material as the neural whip’s lash.

 

Meanwhile, in front of the so-called Wonder Woman the Noble was speaking.

 

“Renounce your foolish beliefs of female equality,” he said.  “Admit you hate all men and what you truly wish is nothing less than our total destruction.”

 

Diana pressed her lips together, bracing herself to debase her quest to bring peace further for the sake of the Russian captives, but the message surprised her.  “No,” she read, “I wont say it. You can’t make me, ignorant male scum.” The last came naturally to her lips surprising herself with the sound of her own vehemence in the words.  She did not believe that last – not in her heart, she told herself.

 

The manacles pulled down, drawing her hands back towards her smarting backside, the neural shock lingering in her synapses.   Diana was hauled upright to face the general as he came forward, working his fingers inside the neural gloves on his hands, making them crackle with energy.  They were obviously designed along the same lines as the whip, and she swallowed, imagining those metal-gloved hands on her body.

 

"We will make you, slut!" he said, reaching out and taking both her breasts into a vice-like grip, applying pressure to drive the neural filaments into her flesh as she squeezed the pert orbs in a crushing grip. 

 

Diana stiffened immediately,  the energy charge filling her tits and making them buzz with discomfort.  The contact of the energy to her bare skin and soft meat beneath increased suddenly, and the Princess was subjected to white-hot, blinding jolts of unbelievable pain firing straight into her woman-globes. Obedient to the twisted orders of her tormentors grimaced in pain.  The material still clinging to her ample breasts was burning away  as he kneaded and groped and twisted her tits like a ruthlessly brutal lover,  exposing her luscious flesh.

 

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!”

   

Diana faced the grinning Sangtee, face tight with pain as she allowed the sounds of suffering to be heard.  Bent forward her breasts hung down into her Sangtee’s upraised palms, and he pushed up, pillowing them against her chest as the fleshy female attributes bulged between his clawing fingers.  Diana could feel the fibres piercing her fair skin and stabbing into her breasts to release their burning message of suffering, making it feel her tits were being roasted from within. Only the continuing view of Tasha and her daughter tied and ready for further torment prevented her from biting down her pain, overcoming it with the sheer force of her nigh indomitable will. 

 

And yet, in a secret part of her soul she was sickly grateful for the excuse to give voice to her pain, not just of her body, but of her very soul, knowing her sister and friends were sharing in this descent into hell.

 

The General let go of her tits, only to slap them...slapping them with both his gloved hands, making them bounce and jiggle on her chest, the weight of the wobbling meat pulling her forward against her bonds.  Blowing out air noisily, eyes narrowed,  she cried aloud, her swelling mammal spheres feeling like they had been smashed with steel hammer.  They burned, her chest aflame,  the heat like it was sizzling her skin away while her Amazon tits bounded wildly, amplifying the hurt.  Again and again he walloped her breasts, the sound of metal on skin echoing in the room and punctuated by Diana’s deep felt groans and choked, unwilling cries.

 

He finally finished slapping her tits, taking a step back to observe her. She watched him eyes cloudy with tears.  Many men had thought that her superhuman powers made her immune to pain, but unlike Superman Diana was not invulnerable – else why would she need to protect herself with her bracelets.  True she was more resilient than any mortal woman was, but she could be hurt, and she could feel pain.  She was sweating heavily now, her bare chest red and shining as she fought to take in air. Her black hair clung to her forehead and she panted, wetting her lips.  The Sangtee had no illusions that she was truly near to breaking, but they also knew that the suffering in her face was not entirely feigned, and the thought warmed their cruel hearts.

 

"Effective, aren’t they?” grunted the Sangtee warrior. “We have made some developments, after you left our planet, whore! And we look forward to demonstrating all of them to you."

 

“Admit your evil,” said the Noble quietly.

 

Diana looked at the screen for her response. “No,” she said, and then followed the prompt to sob a little.  Filth, she thought.

 

“Perhaps the tips of her foul female udders this time,” the Noble suggested with seeming indifference, even his armour unable to completely conceal the erection between his legs.

 

The alien warrior complied, taking her nipples between his thumb and finger, trapping the tender buds in a grip of neural agony.

 

 Oh Goddesses! Diana prayed silently, as the power of the gloves was redirected into one, ultra sensitive spot on each trembling breast.  Before the pain had been bad as it coursed across her skin and soaked into her mammary. But now the anguish had a route directly into the nerve clusters focused in her round hard nipples – the flames of pain that had roasted her tits now scorched her nubbins like twin blowtorches, searing them to misshapen lumps of tight skin. She grit her teeth – compared to this the pacifier seemed like a relaxing massage.

 

"Admit the error of your ways and beg us to take you back to the empire to be executed for your crimes against the natural order of things! Submit slut, or be tortured to death!” the Noble spat.

 

Diana screamed in his grip, her body lifting as instinct took over and she tried to pull herself away from his grip, her big firm breasts roasting, about to burst, the nipples swollen buttons of poisonous agony. As she pulled back so did he, making the large Amazon boobs stretch, increasing the suffering sizzling down the nerve endings in her tit-points.  She looked to the screen with Mishka and Tasha still helpless and then to the prompt viewer, her mind awash  with pain. And then she opened her mouth and gave a wailing, hopeless cry, and screaming aloud lumped in his grip, as commanded.

 

Diana hung there, supposedly unconscious, but he did not let go.  Her boobs still blazing with pain, and all she could do was hang there and endure it, not even permitted to move.

 

Five seconds.

 

Ten.

 

She longed to grit her teeth, just to twitch,  Her breasts coursed with excruciating torment.  She was sure her nipples were about to explode like rotten cherries.

 

 

Fifteen seconds. The torture was maddening, worse than having been locked in the pacifier.  She had to hang totally without resistance – totally submissive to the pain being inflicted.

 

Eighteen, nineteen; her scream was rising in her throat and madness seemed to be a welcome escape from the pain.  With a flash of released energy, her tormentor pulled her tit-tips together, grabbing both her nipples with one hand, still sending the  crackling pain into her breasts...while the other hand lunged beneath the black clad form, clutching her between her legs.

 

She could not believe it- her womanhood instantly igniting with anguish.  Her vagina still burned from the whip and now that torture was quadrupled bu the gloves scrabbling at her pouting fem-slit.   Unable to simply hang any longer she gritted her teeth, feeling her control dissolving, then her red lips flew wide.  Her scream of outraged agony was a warbling sound of utter suffering, tears spilling down her cheeks from sky blue eyes.  Her body from her breasts to her mons had become a circuit of hellish current.  The metal-gloved fingers pushed at the remains of her pants, feeling their way inside, Diana gasping desperately as she imagined what it would feel like when those neural fibres were imbedded into the pink softness of her sex. The thought made her want to hurl obscenities while she trembled uncontrollably and her legs spasmed as she fought to close her thighs, to do something to take control of the pain.  Behind her back her arms were knots of muscles, twisting as she instinctively fought to escaped from her bondage and her torment.

 

“Enough,” the Noble said. Her tormentor held fast on her most tender body-parts and grinned, then after a moment released her.  Diana’s gargle of pain went into an anguished sob of misery and she staggered forward, trying to find strength to steady her self.

 

“Most impressive, for a slut,” said the Noble.  “As a reward for your work on our behalf, you may rest for five minutes, before we resume.”

 

He stepped forward until her could smell the sweat running down in diamond drops over her heaving breasts. "But surely you must see,” he went on philosophically, “that the fact that we are causing this pain, and that you have to endure it, simply proves that females are meant to live beneath the male!"

   

Diana blinked and let her eyes close. It would be useless to argue with this being, and at that moment, she really only cared that the next five minutes would be without fresh pain.

 


Review This Story || Author: DarthSaad
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