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Review This Story || Author: DarthSaad

Wonder Woman: Hell in Paradise (Part 2)

Part 12

Part 4

(A word of praise is due to Devilsharvest for his invaluable help, along with Lord Arrukar,  in constructing the last chapter. And to Arrukar again for this latest...)

 

Part 4

 

Power Girl

 

Muscles in the arms of one of most powerful beings on Earth flexed taught, then relaxed.  The only sound in the underground room was the soft rhythm of breathing and the occasion grating of hundreds of tons of steel against the stone walls.

 

The ceiling of the dank chamber was a pair of huge chrome metal plates, fitted to match exactly the chambers oblong walls and meeting in a line that ran through the diameter of the space, bisecting it.  Their lower surfaces, facing the floor just over 6 feet below them, were perfectly flat, except for a cylindrical shaft. This was protruding like a shiny metal stalactite about three feet in circumference that trailed down from each plate, almost to the floor.

 

Lying between the flat lower face of both these steel shafts and the paved floor was a woman.  Practically naked in their torn one piece tunics, the two Amazons of Themyscria had been bound face up with their arms pulled out from their sides and their legs stretched out, secured at the wrists and ankles with iron manacled set into the cold floor. Gags shaped like the bits of a horses bridle were fixed deeply into their mouths, preventing them from speaking.  As they inhaled each woman could feel the shaft as it sat poised above their bellies. The crushing weight hovering over them was an ever-present threat of a swift but gruesome death should it ever close the ten inches between it and the chill stone beneath.

 

In the centre of the room, arms upraised and taking the full massive weight of the steel, was the focus of all this effort.  A girl, by appearance no more than in her mid twenties, standing about 5’8” tall and dressed in a clinging white one-piece outfit from that covered her body down to her hips and thighs.   An open space across her the costumes chest allowed viewers a dazzling view of her truly spectacular breasts, large mounds of impossible firm flesh that seemed to defy gravity as easily as their owner did when she soared through the sky with her red cape trailing behind her.  On her feet she wore blue buccaneer boots and matching blue gloves covered her hands which were currently occupied with supporting the metal ceiling  Her blonde hair was cropped short above her shoulders and had somewhat wild appearance that well matched the grim resolve and simmering anger apparent in strong lines of the woman’s lovely face.

 

Power Girl, alias Karen Starr, did not have a certain idea how long she had been holding up the metal roof, but she knew it was a long time.  Her imprisonment was simple and yet fiendishly effective.  Able to shatter even the strongest forged restraints with strength that rivalled the Kryptonian hero Superman, she could have burst through the wall of the chamber and escaped with ease. But only by letting go of the steel above her, thus allowing it to drive the metal shafts straight through the abdomens of the imprisoned Amazons.  As long as she wanted the Amazons to stay alive, Karen was trapped.

 

The heroine fumed at her captivity.  The weights she was supporting were enormous by conventional human standards, but she could heft them without effort for days on end.  There was no danger to her fellow prisoners from her tiring physically, though hours of holding the same position with nothing to distract her was taking its toll mentally.  No doubt as intended.

 

She had tried talking to the other women, but found that frustrating too.  They could not reply, even assuming they were among those Amazons who had mastered English.  Both girls were attractive, one of an Asian appearance with golden skin, dark bewitching eyes and long black hair – Karen though she remembered seeing her with Diana and the Amazon princess calling her Eobea.  The other was dusky skinned, a mark of the Amazons raised in the Egyptian city of Bana-Migdhall and only recently joined with their Themyscrian sisters.  She had curly black hair and intense eyes that starred angrily at the metal spike set to impale her. 

 

Eobea had seemed appreciative of Karen’s efforts to comfort her, but the other had only glared or looked away, no doubt furious that an outsider, even though a woman, was holding her life in her hands.  Truth be told, Karen was never good with words of comfort, and ironically in disposition probably more like the warlike Eastern Amazons than their Themyscrian sisters.  She preferred action to talk, and was never one to shy away from a hands on solution.  The duplicitous tactic of using hostages to negate her strength made her blood boil.

 

There was a sound to the side of a door opening.  All three women looked over, the Amazons having to strain a little to raise their heads as a man entered the room.

 

He was unimposing in build, perhaps 6 feet tall and lean.  The most distinctive thing about him was his wardrobe – ordinary streetclothes underneath, but over the top a green surgical gown and matching cap and mask.  Above the mask his eyes were hidden behind a pair of star shaped sunglasses that looked more appropriate for a rock star than a supervillain.

 

Despite his un-intimidating presentation though, Karen felt her blood chill at the sight of the man.  She had never met him, but knew him by his gruesome reputation as the world’s foremost expert on torture.  So horrific were the tales told about this man and his expertise at inflicting suffering that even his comical title of  ‘The Crime Doctor’ could not take away from the lingering horror he carried with him.

 

The man walked into the room, hardly glancing at the Amazons of on the floor.  That was fine with Karen, since her primary fear was that this sadistic creep would make her watch him torture the two prisoners while she was helpless to intervene.  She held no fear for her own well-being.  She had survived hits from armour piercing ammunition and walked unscathed through fires that could melt steel without the slightest discomfort.

 

The Doctor stopped in front of her, examining her with his hands held in front of him, draped in surgical gloves.  ‘Good day, Miss Star,’ he said, speaking in a voice that under other circumstances might have been soothing, with rich comforting tones.  ‘I trust you’re resting comfortably.’

 

Karen did not dignify his statement with a response, and he did not seem perturbed by her silent glare.  Instead, he reached up and felt the firmness of the muscles in her upper arms.  ‘Triceps holding up well I see.’  His hand ran down to her shoulders and then around to her back.  ‘No discomfort in the deltoids or around the scapula?  Excellent!’

 

Karen inhaled to calm herself as the human vermin in the Doctors garb continued to touch her.  Under any normal circumstances she would have never permitted him to get within arms reach of her, unless it was to break those arms as she put him under arrest.  She was actually trembling with the rage that coursed through her as he continued his twisted examination.

 

He stooped down, feeling her legs between the knee and hip.  ‘Well developed quadriceps, yes.’  His hand moved down, the palm caressing the heroine’s inner thigh.  ‘And such fine definition of the sartorius muscle.’  He stroked Karen’s bare leg tenderly, eyes fixed on the magnificent musculature of the alien woman.  Slowly his hand crept higher, towards the gently mound where the white of her uniform was stretched across her crotch.  Karen’s eyes remained fixed ahead, but they blazed with fury as she took quick, noisy breaths, mouth working with suppressed passion.

 

The Doctor turned his hand, cupping her soft pubis and rubbing it gently under the white material.  ‘Can you feel that,’ he asked, impassively.

 

‘You sick son-of-a-bitch!’ Karen exploded, glaring at the far wall. ‘I swear when I get out of hear I’m going to rip that fucking hand off your arm.!’

 

The Doctor looked up at her and cocked his head to one side.  ‘Subject shows signs of belligerence and heightened aggression,’ he said clinically.  Standing up he looked Karen in the eyes, then let his gaze drift down over the impressive frontage of her uniform, lingering on the gaping space that displayed her meta-cleavage.  ‘Overt displays of sexuality noted, possibly to compensate for lingering feelings of inadequacy or as a means to create situations that allow her to take on adversarial role.’

 

He looked back up at Karen’s narrowed eyes, then reached up and grasped her breasts, his palms firmly cupping the swelling teats and hefting them experimentally.  ‘Subject shows no signs of enhancement surgery.’  He raised an eyebrow.  ‘Impressive mammary attributes.’

 

Karen gave a growl that would not have been out of place coming from a wounded polar bear.

 

‘You can feel that then,’ the Doctor said.  ‘And this?’  He squeezed, the invulnerable but flexible flesh moving in his hands.  

 

‘Get…your hand…OFF!’ Karen snapped, livid with outrage.

 

‘I’ll take that as a yes, then,’ the Doctor said, stepping back and removing his hands.  Karen continued to stare daggers at him.  ‘Very interesting.  You know, Miss Power Girl, your nervous system is a great curiosity to me, as it is to many men of science.’  He put his hands behind his back as he took on a lecturing tone.  ‘For example, it is well know that like Superman, you are invulnerable to all but the most powerful outside forces.  Bullets ricochet off you skin without a scratch, but also without apparently any pain response on you part.  In a normal human a strike  by a bullet, even if it did not penetrate the epidermis, would cause intense pain.  You and your ilk, however, seem immune to such discomfort.’

 

‘The intrigue comes from the fact that you are perfectly capable of registering other sensations.  For example,’ he again reached out and probed Karen’s breast, finding the nub of her nipple under her uniform.  He rolled it between his fingers, feeling the button of flesh becoming firmer.  ‘You react as any female to simple stimulus response that does not involve pain.’

 

The circumstances of her bondage gave the blonde prisoner enough wiggle room that she was able to pull back, wrenching her tit from the villain’s unwanted touch. 

 

‘So,’ the Doctor continued, rubbing his chin under the mask.  ‘Clearly you are able to feel, despite your virtually impenetrable skin. In humans, pain receptors require greater stimulus to activate than the everyday nerve clusters in the subject’s body. My theory is that while your epidermal layer is sufficiently flexible to allow the nerves to receive mild signals, your so-called invulnerability means that extreme force, heat, etc is needed to activate the your pain receivers – in short, they exist but are simply harder to access.’

 

Karen wet her lips, shaking her hair from her eyes as she shifted her hands supporting the tons of metal overhead. ‘Sorry to disappoint you, freak.’

 

Beneath his mask, the Doctor smiled.  ‘Not at all, dear girl.  It is a delightful challenge – how to torture a woman who is practically indestructible.  There is the obvious solution of course, to use other meta-powered beings to provide the necessary stimulation, but I prefer not to delegate.  Therefore, a more ingenious approach is needed.’

 

The door to the room opened again, and another man stepped through.  He was shorter than the Doctor, well dressed in a Nehru jacket and pants, with Asian features.  He too wore glasses, but his were more utilitarian, simple round frames that sat over his dark eyes.  The look in those slanted eyes as he took in the sight of the three women could only be describes as cold, but Karen somehow sensed behind his clinical demeanour lurked an even darker side.

 

‘This is Doctor Moon – possibly you have heard of him.  A few years ago he began researching means to reprogram the human mind using electrical impulses from a modified Cat scan machine.  An early success of his was the burglar known as Catwoman, whom he…dissuaded from a continuing partnership with the Batman.  Later, when he was captured, he used his technology at the behest of the US government in aiding the super-villain prisoners recruited by Amanda Waller as the so-called ‘Suicide Squad.’ ‘

 

The Asian  bowed slightly, offering Karen a small smile.  The captive heroine felt as if she were being sized up by a hungry reptile.

 

‘As you can imagine, my colleague is something of an expert on the human nervous system, particularly that part which applies to experiencing pain.  Together we have come up with a theory we would like to test.’  The masked villain turned to Moon.  ‘Doctor.’

 

Thank you, Doctor,’ Moon replied in perfectly articulated English.  He faced Power Girl.  ‘We wish to experiment in the area of heightened pain response – allowing the subject to feel much greater pain than normally, physiologically possible.  This has of course been achieved in past with the use of drugs, but that would be impractical in this case. Fortunately we have access to technology owned by a race called the Sangtee.’

 

‘Never heard of them,’ Karen snapped, but though she saw a fearful recognition in the eyes of the Amazons.

 

‘Not surprising, but they do have something of a history with Wonder Woman,’ Moon replied, taking off his glasses to wipe them.  ‘I believe they have been spending some time reacquainting the Princess with their skills in causing females to suffer.’

 

Karen froze, shocked with anger, and the Amazons made sounds of outrage.  ‘If these Sangtee have hurt Diana…’ Power Girl hissed.

 

‘Oh most assuredly they have,’ Moon answered, and produce a small recording device, which he turned on. Immediately the sound of a whip cracking against flesh and a woman screaming in pain filled the room.

 

‘Please stop,’ moaned the woman, her voice horrifyingly familiar.  ‘It hurts.’

 

The Amazons stared wide-eyed, then began thrashing in their bonds, bodies heaving as they fought to get free and at the men smiling as they listened to the sounds of Diana being tortured.  Karen was beside herself with rage, the metal slabs shaking audibly above her head.

 

‘You bastards!’ she spat.  ‘You’ll pay for this, both of you, you sons-of-bitches!’

 

‘The Sangtee are masters of neural interface tech,’ Moon went on, as if Karen had not spoken.  ‘They have devices to stimulate pain beyond the physical damage done to the subject.  I have modified their technology based on my own understanding of electrical fields in the body and brain to create this.’

 

He held up a small square piece of plastic covered with criss-crossing circuit pathways.  Walking over the dusky skinned Amazon on the floor, her reached down and grabbed her curly dark hair, yanking her head up and making her growl around the gag.

 

‘Leave her alone,’ Karen barked, but Moon ignored her and pushed the circuit chip against her temple, where it adhered to the skin.  The captive woman watched him with murder in her eyes. He then stepped back and held out his arm with his watch, pressing a button on the time-pieces side.  ‘If you would care to do the honours, Doctor,’ Moon said to his partner.

 

The Crime Doctor bent down and produced a scalpel, while the Amazon glared at him and Karen cursed helplessly.  With it he quickly cut away the tattered clothes, leaving the woman nude on the floor, her dark peaked breasts heaving as she sucked in air furiously.  Below her pierced navel, she had a hairless mons, the dark labial lips a tight crease between her long legs.

 

‘The nature of the device is that it interacts with the body’s natural bio-electric field, so having the skin directly accessible is important,’ Moon commented.  The other looked down at the helpless Amazon warrior with her face a mask of fury, and spoke calmly.  ‘It’s alright, Miss.  You needn’t feel embarrassed – I’m a medical man.’

 

With slow movements, the torturer reached down and took the side of the woman breast between his finger and thumb.  Then softly, he squeezed, just pinching the flesh.

 

The result was astounding.  The Amazon gurgles as if in agony, her head snapping back and her body arching upwards.  The Crime Doctor held her for a few seconds, then released her, allowing her to collapse back onto the floor, shaking with convulsions.

 

The other women watched in horror.  The Doctor next flattened his hand and slapped the girl’s boob lightly. It was hardly hard enough for the smack to be heard, but the girl bucked and shrieked as if he had smashed his leather belt into the meat of her tit. He repeated the act and the result was even more extreme as the girl thrashed as if in agony.

 

 'You see, the pain she feels is multiplied a hundredfold. We could achieve this level without the Sangtee’s help of course, but would not, without their assistance, be able to stimulate pain response to point where it could be felt by a subject who was...,’ Moon paused and smiled, '…invulnerable.'

 

'Of course we are men of science,’ The Crime Doctor interjected. ‘A theory must be tested to be proved.’

  

‘And your just doing this for the sake of science I suppose, you freakish little deviants,’ Karen spat at the two men in front of her.

 

The Doctor shrugged. 'One has to love ones job, Power Girl.'  He approached her, and pulled out a scalpel. ‘Moon said this works best with bare skin. I’m guessing that like Superman your uniform is indestructible, but we’ve noticed his cape isn’t. We theorize this is because the garment needs to be against the skin to be protected.’

 

He reached out, taking her uniform top where it was stretched across her magnificent expanse of chest, hooking a rubber-gloved finger into her uniform and pulling it away from the curving flesh.

 

Moon watched, pursing his lips in approval of the luscious curves being revealed. The surgeon reached over with the blade. 'First incision here, I think,’ he said. He cut lightly, and the material parting reluctantly, but it DID cut. Immobilized,  Karen  watched with helpless anger as he continued sawing slowly and methodically.  The busty heroine looked up as she felt the cool air on more and more exposed flesh.

 

The strain of holding in her mighty chest too much for the compromised uniform, her own cleavage now helped the costumes demise.

 

 

Rrrrrrr…IIIIIP!

 

With a sudden surge her breasts spilled out, nipples large and round in the light, breasts sitting impossibly proud.

 

Mmmm...a remarkable woman,’ Moon said, eyes glued to the two magnificent mammaries now fully displayed.

  

The Doctor agreed. ‘Do you think it’s her dense molecular structure that keeps such big tits so taught, Moon?'   Karen pressed her lips together with rage, ready to scream in anger.

  

‘Quite possibly,’ Moon said, stroking his chin. `It would be interesting to observe her reactions to a mammal dissection while it is performed on her! Perhaps a thorough deconstruction of these breasts could give us some…firm data on the subject.’

 

The Doctor smiled at the pun. ‘I concur - but first we should tend to the task at hand.’

 

‘By all means.’

 

The Doctor reached up and held out another chip like the one they had used on the Amazon. ‘Unless you would rather we used them on these other prisoners first?’ he said to Karen dispassionately.

  

Moon took a step forward and casually put his boot onto the dark Amazon´s wide-open cunt and tenderly applied the slightest pressure. She screeched in hellish pain, twisting and squirming on the cold floor, as Moon stood there, slightly giggling. Then he let go and stepped back a little, eagerly observing Power Girl´s reaction.

 

The superheroine was clearly furious, but the trained psychologist in the Asian could also see the sick fear. Fear for her fellow victims balanced against fear for herself. But of course the blonde was a hero, and her response entirely predictable.

  

'Do your worst, scum,' she said, meeting the gaze of both men.

 

`I dare say, we will!’ Moon chortled.

 


Review This Story || Author: DarthSaad
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