Subject: Domination of WW part 1A

Wonder Woman, Wonder Girl and any other characters from
the Wonder Woman story line are copyrighted by DC comics.
Any similarity between names, characters and places in this
story are purely coincidental. This story is written solely
for entertainment purposes and cannot be used or redistributed 
for the purposes of making money or profit.

WARNING - WARNING - WARNING - WARNING - WARNING

This story contains very descriptive scenes of sex, 
bondage and rape. If you do not like to read such material 
             DO NOT READ ANY FURTHER!!!!
    
This story and its material are based on the Wonder Woman TV 
series that aired in the '80s. It is simply one of my fantasy 
episodes. Again, this story contains material of a dark nature. 
If you are offended, do not flame me, just simply ignore 
this posting. The first two parts start off rather slowly so please
bare with the story.

Part 1-5

The Domination of Wonder Woman - Part 1.

    Diana had just finished another exhausting day at the 
defense department and plopped herself down on the brown 
rattan sofa that dominated the living room of her downtown 
apartment. Colonel Trever, Steve to her and to all his 
closest friends, had put poor Ms. Prince through several 
weeks of extensive paperwork. Field duty was one thing but 
three weeks of filing, filling out reports and cataloging 
old cases totally devastated the voluptuous amazon as she 
lay on the couch, half asleep, starring up at the white 
stucco ceiling.
    "Only men could invent such a hideous torture." thought 
Diana as her head slowly pounded from the hours of typing 
and reading. "All the Nazis have to do is come up with 
something that will destroy carbon-paper and the free world 
will crumble.", she mused.
    Suddenly she heard a dull thud from the bedroom as what 
seemed like something heavy hit the plush carpet. Slowly she 
got up. "I wonder if who ever that is heard me come in...", 
she thought to herself as she stealthily moved down the 
hallway of her apartment toward the bedroom.
    At the end of the hall she could see the door to her 
bedroom half open, The light of the afternoon sun lit up the 
room making the hallway much darker than the rest of the 
apartment. She dared not turn on the hallway light, fearing 
this would give her away.
    "THUD-THUD". This time she was sure she was not alone 
and she quickly retreated back down the hallway, through the 
living room and into the kitchen. Being careful to close the 
door behind her, Diana quickly removed her glasses and 
placed them on the kitchen table and, in the same fluid 
motion, she began to spin in a graceful, ballerina style 
twirl. 
    At that moment, a blinding white ball of light engulfed 
her and in a flash, Diana Prince, defense department liaison 
and secretary, changed into the insatiable Wonder Woman. "I 
think things will be on a little more even level now." Diana 
softly exclaimed as she steadied herself. 
    Reaching up she checked her head for the feminim 
barrette that she always wore, making sure it had 
materialized. At the same time she checked her magical belt 
to make sure it was on and secure. Her transformation 
process was directly proportional to her concentration level 
and she had to make sure everything appeared. 
    Most of the time she changed and had no problems with 
the magical process but a few times, under one or two 
distracting circumstances, she had changed, not pulling some 
of her costume or accessories from the mystical plane that 
stored them. One time, on a crowded street, during an 
intense fire fight, she changed and forgot to summon her 
feminim bracelets, leaving herself in a very distressing 
position.
    The most important accessory, the one she could not do 
without however, was her magical belt. This mystical item 
was the embodiment of her psychic spirit and, while away 
from paradise island, was the only way she could draw 
psychic strength from the elements, giving her the 
incredible strength, skill and stamina of Wonder Woman.
    Now ready to meet her new 'guest', Diana slowly, but 
confidently, moved through her apartment and toward her 
bedroom. Reaching the door to the room she shifted to one 
side to see through the open crack but all she could see was 
the summer breeze blowing the curtains in waves across the 
window.
    Suddenly, a hand slipped around her waist and firmly 
grabbed her solar plexus, pulling her backward. At the same 
time another hand reached around her head and clamped itself 
down over her mouth, taking her by surprise.
    Confidently thinking her assailant was just a burglar, 
Wonder Woman held back using her full strength and tried to 
throw her much weaker attacker against the wall with just 
enough controlled force to stun them. To her surprise 
however, she was held fast by her assailant. In fact, her 
attacker seemed almost as strong as she was.
    Diana stepped up her struggling, twisting and pushing 
while trying to pull the attacker's hand from her mouth. 
Instantly she noticed her attacker was not a man but a 
woman, a very strong woman.
    The two danced about in the darkened hallway as each 
one attempted to gain control of the other, pulling and 
pushing each other into the walls, trying to throw the other 
off balance. The assailant's grip, however, began to weaken. 
Sensing her opponent faltering, Diana grabbed the arm from 
around her waste and in a massive, adrenaline induced 
effort, spun the attacker around and flipped her head first 
into the sun lit bedroom.
    The attacker hit the floor of the bedroom with an incredibly 
loud ka-thump which could only have been made by Diana 
throwing a body, with her full strength, to the floor. She 
immediately panicked as the thought of this poor sole 
having every bone in their body smashed to bits rushed into 
her mind.
    Her fears were instantly quelled however as a childish, 
school girl giggle rang out from the bedroom. Walking into 
the room, Diana took one look at her determined attacker and 
a grin of relief and surprise came across her face. There, 
sprawled on the floor and sitting on her rear like a big 
raggedy Ann doll was her little sister Drucella.
    "Dru! What are you doing here?", exclaimed the 
pleasantly surprised heroine. "Oh Diana, I was just in the 
neighborhood and I thought I'd stop by." replied Drucella as 
she sat rubbing her rather sore rear end.
    "Oh come now little sister. Do you honestly expect me 
to believe that?" Diana asked folding her arms across her 
chest and cocking her hips to one side.
    "Well, actually, mother sent me to remind you about the 
Paradise Island flower festival coming up next month. The 
royal princess must attend to receive her yearly honoring of 
flowers from our people" said Drucella.
    "But mother didn't need to send you here. She could have 
just sent me a telepathic message. You didn't pester her to 
come did you?" asked Diana suspiciously. 
    "Oh... well... just a little pestering..."
    Diana shot Drucella a guilty stare.
    "Oh but Diana, I did so much want to come. The outside world 
is so fabulous, so mysterious."                
    "And also dangerous!" sternly replied Diana. "You remember 
what happened to you the last time you were here don't you?" 
"Well, yeah but... nothing really bad happened and besides... it
was kind of exciting getting kidnapped by those Nitzies." jokingly 
replied Drucella.
    "That's Nazis and they're nothing to laugh at. They are 
extremely dangerous people and they're the reason I'm here 
doing what I'm doing." Diana walked up and embraced 
Drucella, holding Dru's head to her chest. 
    "I don't think I could bear it if anything bad happened 
to you. I know you can take care of yourself but, these men 
are not honorable. They don't play fair."
    "I know Diana but mother did say it would be good for 
my education. Besides I'll be extra EXTRA careful this time, 
honest." pleaded Drucella in her best puppy dog whimper. She 
was always able to get what she wanted from Diana or mother 
this way. The way her big brown eyes lit up with the 
slightest hint of tears melted almost any one's heart.
    "Well... OK. But be CAREFUL. Mother would kill me if 
something happened to you." Diana said strictly.
    "Oh thank you Diana! Thank you! Now can we go and get 
a, what do they call it, an ice cream sundae?" Drucella 
replied, hopping up and down like an excited school girl.
    "Oh Dru! You're so incorrigible. OK, if it will keep 
you out of my hair." said Diana in a tired, half hearted 
voice. "I can't go with you now, however, I'm waiting for a 
call from Pamela Sanders, one of the women I work with at 
the war department. She said she's tracking down a lead on 
an old case and will let me know what she finds."
    "Oh, what ever." said the young, half interested amazon 
as she looked about Diana's bedroom at the various 
decorations and items Diana had collected during her stay in 
the outside world.
    "Here, take this. A couple of dollars should do it." 
said Diana as she handed Drucella the money she kept in a 
drawer in the night stand next to the bed. "Just enough to 
keep you in ice cream sundaes all day." 
    "Oh yeah, that's right. They use money. Gosh Diana, 
I'll never get used to that." Drucella hastily grabbed the 
bills and headed for the door in a rather childlike skipping 
motion.
    "Ehem... Dru..." Diana said in a remindful tone as she 
stood leaning against the door frame of the bedroom staring 
at Drucella in the hall. "Aren't you forgetting something?"
    Drucella stared back at Diana curiously as Diana held 
up her hand and twirled her finger about in a circular 
motion. 
    "Oh! Silly me." and with that the young heroine began 
spinning in place. After the white flash died down, Drucella 
stood wear a Sunday dress, bobby socks, sneakers and her 
hair in ribbons, her costume stored in the mystical plane 
until needed again.
    "Now I might be out when you get back. There's a key under 
the mat out back. Just let yourself in." Diana informed her. 
    "Wonder Woman work?" eagerly asked Drucella? 
    "Maybe. But nothing I want you involved in. Now SCOOT!" and 
with that, Diana patted Drucella on her rear and escorted her 
out the front door.
    Pamela Sanders was one of the only female field agents 
the defense department used. Sometimes it was easier for a 
woman to do undercover work than a man since less suspicion 
fell on women. The US. government didn't normally use women 
so the enemy usually expected men as agents and this was a 
plus for Pam. 
    She had been working with Diana Prince for the last 3 weeks 
reviewing files and they had found something that might be a lead. 
Diana had pieced together several bits of information from several 
files and through a certain degree of logic, she had deduced 
that there might be a Nazi spy headquarters located in the 
private beach communities north of town.  
    Several people had reported unusual activity and what 
they called "strange lights and sounds" emanating from some 
of the cliff side beaches along the ocean. Since most of 
these communities weren't being used during the war because 
of constantly annoying blackouts and noisy ocean bombardment 
drills by naval vessels on old tankers, it seemed strange 
any activity at all would be there. Also, most of the 
beaches that were reported to have the strange activities 
were inaccessible to most people due to high cliffs and 
rough water conditions.
    Pamela was heading north along the coast highway in a 
small desoto. After about two hours of driving she pulled 
off down a small road that lead steeply toward a bluff that 
overlooked the thin strip of beach below.
    It was about six o'clock as Pamela brought the car to a 
stop at the edge of the bluff and got out. The mid summer 
sun was still high in the sky but the steep cliffs behind 
her hid its decent, causing a dark, cool shadow to cast over 
the bluff, cooling off the blazing heat of the day.
    Looking about at the steep trail that wound its way 
down to the distant beach below, Pamela sighed heavily, 
knowing she had a major trek on her hands. "These high heels 
and skirt aren't going to hack it." she mumbled to herself 
as she pulled a small bag from the passenger side seat.
    Unzipping the bag she removed a small pair of black, 
cotton shorts, a khaki, light blue shirt and a pair of 
sneakers and proceeded to remove the heavy gray skirt and 
cotton shirt. The highway was nearly invisible from the 
bluff and she figured if she can't see the road, nobody on 
the road could see her. With her bra falling into the 
passenger seat, she now stood completely naked on the bluff 
except for the thin pair of underpants she had been wearing 
under her skirt.
    Pamela was a very fit, fairly attractive woman in her 
late twenties with a very short, curly head of blondish, 
white hair which was always permed and sat high 
on her head. She was rather tall, but not as tall as Diana, 
who stood a towing 6'4"  in heels. Even though it was not 
vogue for women to be overly muscular or fit, Pamela worked 
out on a regular basis in order to compete as best as she 
could with the male operatives she worked with. 
    Her muscularity didn't show however, being covered by a 
nice soft layer of body fat. It was hard to maintain this 
balance of fitness and softness, however. It wouldn't do to 
have an agent play the role of a wife or mistress with hard, 
bulging muscles. This alone would be a dead give away as to 
her identity.
    She had long firm legs which ran up to a nice, round 
set of full hips. Her waist was rather tiny and ran up 
toward a rather wide set of shoulders and an impressive pair 
of firm but soft breasts. She was large breasted as women go 
but she always felt that Diana was much larger. She managed 
to confirm her suspicions one time though it was extremely 
difficult since that mouse of a woman never wore anything 
revealing. There were times, however, when she could catch a 
glimpse here or a stare there as Diana would bend over to 
pick up a file folder or stretch back to yawn.
    One time, she even invited Diana to a steam sauna, 
hoping to catch her naked in the shower or get a peek under 
her towel. "I'm from a very religious family," Diana would 
say. "Its wrong for us to disrobe in front of anybody, 
including other women." 
    "Totally absurd," Pamela thought at the time. "That 
woman is going to be a spinster, poor thing. She can't even 
take off those ridiculous glasses in the steam room. How can 
anyone claim to need a pair of fogged up glasses to see 
with?" 
    Pamela had grown up in a family of cops. Her father was 
a police captain and her three brothers were all police officers. 
Boys were everywhere in her life and she had little exposure 
to women when she was younger. Her mother had died of polio 
when she was young and she had become the woman of the house 
until she was old enough to set out on her own.
    When she was about 14, she had an experience where she 
was tied up by the neighborhood boys while playing cops and 
robbers. They left her bound and gagged in a tool shed while 
they played like they were rescuing her from one side or 
another. 
    While she lay helpless, one of the neighborhood girls 
snuck in and started to tickle her with a feather. At first it was very 
uncomfortable since the girl was tickling her feet but it 
started to feel real good as the feather moved up along the 
inside of her bare thigh. The other girl was fascinated by 
Pamela's reaction and began tickling her breasts in 
experimentation. This was the first time Pamela had ever 
climaxed and she always remembered it being extremely 
intense.
    She figured this was why she had such a strong 
fascination with bondage and having sex with other women. 
She had outward relationships with men, which usually 
amounted to nothing at all, but, behind closed doors, she 
and her female friends played out the fantasies that really 
made her excited. 
    This was also partially why she worked so hard to join 
the defense department. The thrill of being caught, the 
excitement of the danger was a narcotic she could not 
resist.
    Diana was a fascination to her. She knew there was a 
great body under that drab uniform, dull hairdo and dumpy 
glasses. "I just know she's a wildcat waiting to burst," 
Pamela would say to herself. "She's like a powder keg ready 
to blow, I just know it. But how do I set off the fuse?" 
Pamela remembered one time. however, when she got very close 
to doing just that.
    One evening, after working her undercover assignment as 
a barmaid to break a spy ring, Pamela had returned to the 
office only to find Diana working another one of her 
dedicated overtime nights doing some ridiculous research 
assignment for that dullard Steve Trevor. 
    After talking with each other for a bit, Diana sat back 
in her chair with her head leaning over the head rest, and 
shut her eyes to get a moments rest. Pamela could see her 
well pronounced profile and became instantly aroused by the 
situation.
    Slowly she sauntered over to the relaxing brunette 
sitting so serenely in her chair. Putting her hands on 
Diana's shoulders, she began to slowly massage her back. 
Pamela was sure Diana would jump 10 feet in the air, get all 
flustered and tell her something like "Where she comes from 
people just don't do that kind of thing".
    For several moments, however, Diana said and did 
nothing. After a long period of silence, Diana's shoulders 
relaxed and she let out a low, soft moan. It was like an ice 
cube melting and shifting its weight in a glass of warm, 
intoxicating bourbon. The large woman below her slowly 
relaxed and sank deeper into the chair. Her neck began to 
slowly rotate rhythmically as Pamela's hands worked their 
way around Diana's shoulders.
    Then Diana let out another sigh which surprised Pamela 
and almost made her stop her massage. The first one was 
expectantly low with the sound of relief attached to it but 
this second one was different. It was higher in pitch and 
very heavy as though the mysterious woman was thinking 
something deep, almost dark in nature. It said to Pamela one 
thing, the thing she wanted to hear, the thing that made her 
tingle with excitement and anticipation; welcome.
    This was too good to be true. All her fantasies were 
becoming reality as this shy, beautiful girl below her 
slowly weakened and submitted. With her left hand massaging 
Diana's left shoulder, Pamela slowly slid her right hand 
across Diana's right shoulder and down her right arm, 
stopping at her upper arm. She grasped it firmly but gently 
and paused for a few moments holding Diana's upper arm in 
such a way as to say "Hello, may I come in?"
    Diana responded with another soft moan and at the same 
time she relaxed her mouth and let her jaw drop causing her 
full, red lips to part. Her facial muscles totally relaxed 
along with the muscles around her eyes giving her a kind of 
dreamy, entranced look.
    At this point Pamela proceeded to move her hand along 
Diana's long arm down to her right hand. Placing her hand 
over the back of Diana's, Pamela slowly caressed it. This 
drew a heavy breathe from the large brunette. 
    At the same time Pamela leaned into Diana, placing her 
mouth close to Diana's right ear and she began to slowly but 
lightly rub Diana's earlobe with her soft, dry lips. Diana 
was breathing heavily now through her mouth and moaned again 
in another low, dull moan of enjoyment.
    To Pamela it was like trying to sneak up on a 
frightened deer. Slowly she had to earn Diana's trust before 
she could move closer. Too much boldness would scare her 
off. Too little would make the actions predictable and boring. 
Either way she could loose the spell she had over this incredible 
woman if she wasn't careful. 
    Watching Diana at work, Pamela sensed that maybe this 
woman was like her. Maybe she too enjoyed pleasures only 
women of her day could experience behind closed doors. 
The way this woman moved, the way she reacted to touch all 
said the same thing to Pamela, a message she enjoyed seeing 
in another woman.
    Risking it all Pamela decided to send a message to this 
hypnotized girl sitting in front of her, a message that 
said: "I'm like you. Don't be afraid." Slowly wrapping her 
fingers around Diana's right wrist, Pamela gently slid 
Diana's right arm back behind the chair. As she did so, she 
placed her thumb in the palm of the other woman's hand and 
gently squeezed it.
    Diana's breathe quickened as she let out a short sigh. 
Her legs squeezed together ever so slightly as her hips 
rocked. This cuased her legs to slowly slide back and forth. 
Her lower legs curled lazily to one side of the chair as her 
thighs gently rubbed together. Her right hand curled closed, 
wrapping her fingers around Pamela's thumb squeezing it 
gently. 
    Pamela let go of Diana's left shoulder and slide her 
other hand down Diana's left arm, gently grasping her other 
wrist. She pulled the other arm back behind the chair, 
careful not to scare this incredibly shy woman.
    Diana responded by shifting slightly, rolling her wide 
shoulders back over the back rest of the wooden chair. 
Pamela crossed the woman's hands and held them in place with 
the thumb and fore finger of her right hand, clamping 
Diana's wrists gently together. 
    Diana's hands curled slightly shut as Pamela reached up 
and pulled her scarf from around her own neck. Using the 
scarf she slowly wrapped it around Diana's wrists; twice 
across the outside and twice between the arms in a vertical 
direction, making the scarf cross her wrists in both 
directions. Then, releasing Diana's wrists with the other 
hand, Pamela tied both ends of the scarf together with a 
single, symbolic knot, securing the brunette's hands.
    Diana still lay motionless in the chair. Pamela was 
utterly shocked this had gone on this long. "Doesn't this 
girl ever get any?" she thought, "Poor thing. I'll just have 
to fix that." Returning her lips to Diana's right ear, she 
again began to gently nibble the woman's earlobe. 
    Diana responded by breathing heavier. She slowly slid 
her head back and forth, complimenting and enhancing 
Pamela's movements around her ear. Her head then turned to 
the right, rolling farther back and Pamela found her lips 
lightly touching Diana's soft, warm cheek. Her mouth was so 
close, so tempting. Those full red lips, moist and shiny, 
sat helplessly entranced and at Pamela's mercy.
    A wet kiss at this point would certainly break the 
spell and fearing the loss, Pamela refused to risk it. 
Instead, she moved her mouth across Diana's cheek, lightly 
caressing it with her lips. As she did this, she reached 
around to Diana's front and slowly unbuttoned her blazer, 
being careful not to tug or pull the material, so as not to 
give away her actions.
    The blazer fell open and slid to either side of the 
woman's chest. Looking down, Pamela was amazed at the 
spectacle before her. This girl was huge. Not distastefully 
large like some women she new but very pleasantly ample. In 
fact the size of her breasts coupled with the angle of her 
back, forced the sides of her blazer to fall completely away 
to either side.
    Looking down the girl's shirt, Pamela could see an 
amazing canyon of cleavage. The tan gap of skin ran outward 
and curved downward as the two spherical glands came 
together in an impressive union of smooth, plump flesh. Even 
with her breasts pushed together by her bra, they still were 
large enough to extend past the sides of her rib cage.
    Pamela's hand found itself moving slowly up Diana's 
chest, lightly gliding the fingernail of her middle finger 
over the fabric of the shirt. Upon reaching Diana's right 
breast she stopped for a moment, then, ever so lightly, she 
ran her finger along the bottom curvature of the breast, 
stimulating it with a slight touch. 
    Diana surged at this point, rolling her chest and 
pushing her right breast toward the stimuli. She let out a deep, 
heavy moan as she began to slowly roll and arch her back. 
As she pushed her right breast forward, her nipple grew hard 
and protruded through the bra and shirt causing a noticeable rise to 
appear, forcing her shirt to stretch tighter around her 
plump breast.
    Pamela slide her nail over the erect nipple and, in a 
circular pattern, began teasing it with a slight tickling 
motion. Diana began to sigh and moan rhythmically as Pamela 
quickened the pace, tickling the helpless nipple faster and 
faster. 
    The woman's breathing grew lighter and quicker as her 
back arched higher and higher. Pamela was amazed at the 
sensuality of this meek girl and was enjoyably astonished as 
this sheep of a woman began to moan loudly and erotically.
    Suddenly, without warning, a loud CA-THUNG rang out 
from under the chair and both girls fell backward as the 
spring under the chair broke sending Diana piling on top of 
Pamela. Almost as quickly as she landed on top of Pam, Diana 
sprang to her feet, twisting and wiggling her shoulders as 
she untied herself.
    "Um... uh... I have to go... Its late..." nervously 
stuttered Diana as she snatched up her glasses and quickly 
shoved them back on her blushing red face. In a panic she 
looked about the room and grabbed a handful of files from 
the desk, and used them to cover her chest. 
    "I... uh ... I have to go over these files by 
morning... I'm sorry I can't stay.... Could you lock up... 
thanks?" and with that, the stuttering, nervous brunette 
grabbed her purse and the wrong coat from the coat rack and 
head quickly out the door. 
    Pamela stood up slowly and walked over to the half 
open door and watched as Diana strutted down the hall like a 
skittish chicken, trying to balance forty file folders in 
one arm and putting on a navy overcoat that was 2 sizes too 
big with the other. Her hair hung in disarray from the bun 
tied in the back of her head and her right wrist still had 
Pamela's scarf tied to it.
    This was the closest Pamela ever got to Diana. The 
weeks afterward were filled with dull, uneventful 
conversations and quick hellos and good-byes. It was as 
though something enormous was dominating this woman and she 
could not let herself go.
    One time, as a joke, Pamela asked Diana bluntly if she 
could have her scarf back. The big brunette blushed at the 
request and quickly pulled the scarf from her desk drawer, 
plopping it on the desk in front of her never making eye 
contact with the amused agent.
    Pamela changed into the black shorts, tennis shoes and 
shirt. The shorts were basically men's cotton pants cut off 
just where the legs met the waste. They were rather snug but 
comfortable and showed off all of her long white legs. 
    She put on the shirt and tightly tied the bottom halves 
together in a knot around her lower chest to support her 
breasts. This left her stomach exposed along with a good 
deal of cleavage. It was hot and she felt the more 
ventilation the better. Besides, getting sand out of a bra 
was a pain and she always hated that feeling. Anyway who was 
going to see her. This was probably a wild goose chase 
anyway.

The Domination of Wonder Woman - Part 2.

    Pamela slowly started to make her way down the cliff's 
winding trail toward the obscured beach below. As she got 
lower and lower she could hear the surf pounding on the 
rocks. Seagulls soared upward on pillars of air toward the 
mid afternoon sky and then took dive after dive into the 
ocean water to catch fish. 
    After about 10 minutes of slow decent, Pamela reached 
the narrow beach that lined the base of the cliffs. From 
this point not only could she not see the road but she 
couldn't see her car as well. The cliffs rose vertically for 
40 or 50 feet forming an ominous wall before her. Without 
the trail to take her back up, she would probably be trapped 
on the beach and be washed out to sea when the tide came in.
    Picking up a piece of driftwood and using it as a cane, 
she climbed over the rocks and plodded through the sand 
toward the northern end of the beach. There, looming in 
front of her were tons of boulders blocking her progress 
north. "Oh well, nothing down here except a bunch of dead, 
smelly fish anyway." Pamela huffed as she turned and started 
back over the boulders toward the south.
    As she turned, her foot slipped out from under her and 
her rear end came down hard on the boulder she was just 
standing on. Sitting there for a moment contemplating what 
kind of inept clod she was, she grabbed a nearby boulder and 
proceeded to get up. Her hand suddenly slipped out from 
under her weight and again her rear pounded into the rock. 
    "What the?..." she said in frustration as she held her 
hand up. Dripping from her hand was a clump of dark, black 
ooze which slowly rolled down her upper arm. Wiping her hand 
back and forth several times she shook the ooze onto a 
nearby rock. She rubbed the remnants between her fingers and 
then took a quick sniff. 
    "Lubricating oil? Its almost fresh. How can...." and 
looking out at the shore she saw the seagulls diving in and 
scooping out dead fish after dead fish from the water. "The fish!".
Pamela got up, walked to the shore and dipped her fingers in 
the churning water. Her fingers came out covered in a thick 
rainbowish film of oil. Looking out across the water along the 
shore to the north, she could see the same rainbow effect in the 
water beyond the wall of boulders that blocked her path. 
    With her walking stick in hand she proceeded to climb 
the boulders to see what was on the other side of this wall. 
After climbing 10 feet with ease, her progress was suddenly 
met with an impassable wall of rocks. There was no way to 
get a foot hold nor any way to skirt around it short of 
jumping in the water and swimming around. The though of 
jumping in that slimy, oily, rotting, fish infested water 
and swimming against the current quickly changed her mind 
about that idea.
    "Oh well, I'll just have to come back with some rope in 
the morning. Its probably nothing anyway. Just some 
fishermen dumping oil or something." but as Pamela turned to 
leave she could faintly hear a very soft 'ting' from behind 
the wall of rocks.
    Out on the beach the surf's roar was so loud she could 
barely hear herself think but up against the rocks, the surf 
was deadened and the 'ting' continued to repeat. Now 
curiosity drove her to get past the rocks. Looking for a 
moment she suddenly noticed a white, hard substance between 
some of the rocks. "Mortar? On a beach?" and she began to 
feel along the mortared seam, tracing it around the rocks. 
Then, at mid level, she noticed one rock protruding 
outward. It seemed very 
unnatural as it jutted straight out of a solid block of 
rock. What's more, there was a gap all the way around where 
the stone met the rock wall. It was as though the stone was 
floating sideways in a hole in the wall.
    After examining it a bit, she put her hands on it and 
gave it a slight shove. Surprisingly it moved inward making 
a slight grinding sound. She then pushed on it again, 
leaning completely into it and forcing the stone to flatten 
against the surrounding rocks. At that moment she could hear 
a grinding noise to her left as a section of the rock face 
swung open to reveal a door.
    Slowly and cautiously Pamela picked up her walking 
stick and, holding it like a club, proceeded to enter the 
dark and mysterious doorway. As she went from daylight to 
pitch dark it took a few seconds for her eyes to adjust. 
After a few moments, she could see she was on the other side 
of the rock wall. On this side however things looked a lot 
different.
    Apparently the outside wall was built up to wall off 
the entrance to a cave that ran through the cliff from one 
side to the other. On the inside she could see the wall was 
built up of various rocks into a vertical wall with various 
metal Ibeams and struts supporting it. The weight mechanisms 
for the door were clearly visible from this side of the 
wall. 
    Along the roof was strung a thick electrical cable with 
a string of light bulbs hanging from it. This probably 
explained the odd lights people reported seeing from the 
beach. As the door opened at night, the light from the bulbs 
would escape onto the pitch dark beach.
    Pamela stealthily moved through the tunnel, keeping to 
one side so as not to be seen easily. The 'ting' sound she 
heard earlier grew noticeably louder as she approached the 
other end of the tunnel. As she reached the other end she 
quickly ducked behind a small pile of rocks.
    The tunnel opened onto the side of a large, underground 
grotto which was apparently formed by tidal actions over 
several thousand years. The deep, almost cylindrical tunnel 
ran from the ocean, through the side of the mountain and 
into its depths for several hundred feet. 
    The mouth of the tunnel was covered with a huge 
camouflage net with what appeared to be various large brown 
sponges attached to it. From far away, the sponges and 
netting would probably look exactly like the surrounding 
rock.
    At the other end of the tunnel was the source of the 'ting' 
sound. Anchored, and almost dry docked, was a German 
Type IV U-boat. It sat on several large I-Beams that ran underneath 
it and which acted like a giant cradle holding the boat right side 
up in the low tidal water. The water level was extremely low, low 
enough for several men to walk chest deep in the water and 
work on the sides of the hull. The 'ting' sound came from 
the upper deck of the U-Boat as a man, with a huge sledge 
hammer, pounded away at something or other.
    Pamela sat for a minute in awe of this spectacle. She 
hated the Nazis and what they stood for but sometimes, like 
in this case, they pulled off some pretty impressive feats. 
This secret dry-dock was no exception and it had to be 
shutdown immediately. If that sub could maneuver into the 
shipping lanes, it could torpedo freighters and warships and 
return here to rearm and refuel. It could harass shipping 
for years.
    Suddenly Pamela noticed some activity on a wooden dock that 
ran along the front of the U-Boat at the far end of the grotto. 
She spied the mingling of people intensely and froze in shock. There, 
wearing a black raincoat and hat, was one of Nazi Germany's 
most ruthless spies, Countess Gretta Orlaph.
    This woman could be considered her Nazi counterpart 
except for the fact Pamela would never conceive of doing a 
tenth of the horrid atrocities this woman was credited with. 
Not only was this woman a murderer, she was a cold blooded 
psychopath who took great enjoyment in torturing her 
victims. Being at the hands of the Countess meant certain 
slow and painful death.
    The Countess stood with two gentlemen and several Nazi 
workers. The two gentlemen also wore black raincoats and 
were unrecognizable to Pamela. They had to be top operative 
though since the great Countess never worked with "amateurs 
and thugs".
    "Boy I can't wait to turn in this base's location. Not 
only will we nail a secret U-Boat base, we'll also nail the 
Countess herself and her gang of goons." Pamela softly 
whispered to herself. But as she sat watching the spies on 
the dock, she felt a small, cylindrical object press into 
the middle of her back.
    "Get up frauline and keep ze hands vhere I can zee 
them." said a deep German voice behind her. Pamela's eyes 
lit up as she slowly rose to her feet with her back to the 
gunman.
    "Hey... Hey Franz." shouted the gunman, "Comin z here. 
I have caught a little spy." And with that shout several 
workers began racing down the gangway toward the side tunnel 
entrance. They were several hundred feet away but, at a good 
jog, they would be on her in only a few minutes.
    "Turn around slowly frauline." ordered the gunman, "let 
me have a look at you." Pamela slowly turned to face the 
mysterious man behind her. The man was one of the workers, 
apparently using the tunnel to travel to and from the 
highway. He was a stocky, rather disgusting gentleman 
wearing large, blue overalls, a ragged, oil soaked T-shirt 
and tattered work boots.
    As she turned to face him his face lit up with a small, 
perverse smile as his eyes shifted downward toward Pamela's 
bare legs and tight shirt. "You American girls are most 
attractive. I do so much enjoy being in America." the pot-
bellied worker slurred as he gaped at her shapely body.
    Thinking quickly Pamela realized she had an edge. Her 
arms were held up at her sides with her hands about level 
with her head. Swinging her elbows inward, she slowly 
squeezed her large breasts together, creating a rather 
impressive canyon of cleavage. At the same time she cocked 
her hips to one side, bring her legs and thighs together and 
bending one leg slightly at the knee. She then bent slighlty 
forward toward the worker and her full red lips sprouted a 
small, dreamy smile. With this stance she could probably 
pose for any cheesecake, war calendar and probably be the 
most popular month.
    "Oh please don't hurt me." Pamela said softly and 
slowly as she batted her long eyelashes innocently, "I 
wasn't doing anything wrong, I promise. I'll do anything you 
want if just don't hurt me." She looked deep into his eyes 
with her best 'who me' school girl look. Her eyes blossomed 
into two, big, blue pools of pure helplessness.
    "Don't worry my dear." said the worker as he approached 
her, reaching out to grab her upper arm with his free hand. 
"We won't hurt you. We just want to ask you a few 
questions." he continued staring intensely at her large, 
round breasts.
    "Oh I'm not worried," Pamela replied.
    Suddenly, with blinding agility, she let out a powerful 
front kick that landed between the workers legs. At first 
she thought he was going to scream like a wild animal and 
maneuvered herself so she could knock him out with a karate 
blow. 
    The worker didn't scream, however. Instead, he froze 
in a prone, hunched over position and slowly tilted over, 
falling with a low, dull thump to the dirt floor like a thick
oak tree crashing to the ground.
    "Gets em every time." she beamed as she picked up the 
gun and shook the sand off of it. As she did so she could 
hear the other workers climbing up the catwalk that 
connected the side tunnel entrance to the grotto. "Oh boy. 
I'd better beat it, but quick, or I'm going to end up the 
guest of honor at a Nazi gang bang party." 
    She bolted for the entrance door and, as she reached 
it, she could here the workers at the other end picking up their 
stunned friend. "Damned American bitch!" she could hear 
"We'll fix her good!"
    Getting outside was a lot easier than getting in but 
she had to do something to slow them down. There was no way 
she was going to make it up the cliff without them taking a 
shot at her. Maybe Wonder Woman could handle these thugs but 
not her. One lone girl with a Lugar wasn't going to hold off 
20 or 30 men. 
    As the door shut, she noticed the stone switch 
extending itself back out from the rock. "If I could jam that switch..." 
she thought. Quickly using the only hard thing she had, Pamela 
wedged the barrel of the Lugar into the crack between the switch 
stone and the surround rock.
    After securing the pistol, she headed back for the 
path, bolting and bounding from rock to rock like some 
adrenaline pumped mountain goat. Stopping for just a moment, 
she looked down the cliff to see if she was being chased or, 
worse yet, being fired upon. The pounding surf was so loud 
the workers could have been firing cannon shells at her and 
she wouldn't have heard them.
    At first she thought the wedged gun didn't work as she 
could see the door opening. But it quickly stopped after 
only a few inches and she could see it opening and closing 
as though the men were trying to force it open. "Good thing 
he was carrying a Lugar instead of a 45," she thought as she 
continued up the rocks "I never would have gotten the barrel 
jammed in the rock if it was a 45."
    Reaching her Desoto, she whipped open the door and fired up 
the engine, slamming it into reverse and flattening the gas pedal in one 
swift, fluid motion. The car's tires spun in the soft dirt 
spraying up a large shower of dirt and gravel as the she 
maneuvered the car at high speed in reverse back up the dirt 
rode to the highway.
    "Oh NO!" she gasped as she looked through the back 
window of the car. Between her and the highway, two men 
stood with machine guns. Instantly, they opened fire on the 
car. Instinctively, Pamela ducked her head behind the seat, 
hoping she could keep the car on course. 
    An array of 'plunking' sounds rang through the car as the 
spray of bullets punched through the thin steel of the 
body. Glass showered all over Pamela and the front 
seat as the bullets went through the rear and front 
windshields. Amazingly enough, none of them went through the 
seats, as she had hoped, and she continued to barrel the car 
like a small, black juggernaut up the dirt road. 
    Bthump, Bthump.
    She could hear the bodies of the two men role over the 
top of the car as she rear ended them. "What idiots." she 
thought as she backed the car out onto the highway. "I would 
have at least gotten the hell out of the way." 
    Sitting back up she slammed the car into first and 
headed south down the highway toward Bricksburg. This was 
the closest town, and the closest phone, and she had to let 
someone know what was going on. Since it was a Saturday and 
the defense department would be closed, her only hope was to 
contact Diana at home, that's of course, if she was home.    
    As the car sped off, three figures walked onto the rode. 
Bending down one of the men wiped his fingers on a wet spot 
on the highway. "Petrol, her car is leaking." the man in the 
raincoat said in a deep German accent.
    "Good" said the countess in a deviously, pleasant 
voice. "Our little spy won't get far. Tell our agents in 
Bricksburg to expect a visitor. I want her brought to me 
ALIVE!"   
        -       -      -
    Drucella sat at the drugstore counter, her hands 
cupped in her lap, her legs crossed at the ankles and her 
head bent over a huge chocolate malt. She didn't move a 
muscle except for her mouth which slowly sucked and slurped 
away at the ice cream desert in front of her. Around the 
drugstore various businessmen, housewives, the shop owner 
and several teenagers stared in awe.
    Surrounding Drucella was a plethora of 10 or 12 empty 
malt, sundae and ice cream dishes. Never in their lives had 
they seen such anyone eat so much ice cream in such a short 
amount of time, at least no one that didn't head for the 
rest room holding there mouth.
    "Uh, Hi. My name is Daniel." at first the feasting amazon 
didn't even notice the young man who sat down next to her. 
    "Uh hello... yoo hoo.."
    Drucella shifted her head to one side to see the person 
talking to her. Raising her head she turned slowly around to 
look the other way thinking he was addressing someone to her 
other side. "Are you talking to me?" shyly asked Dru as she 
pulled the straw from the half empty glass and licked the 
ice cream remnants from it.
    "Yeah um.. my name is Daniel but everyone calls me 
Danny" stuttered the boy as he held out his hand to Dru. 
    "Why?"
    "Why what?"
    "Why do they call you Danny?"
    "Cause that's my name, Danny."
    "I thought your name was Daniel."
    "It is." Danny said sheepishly retracting his hand.
    "How strange. You have two names?" Dru remarked as she 
returned to slurping up her ice cream treat.
    "Well at least I can't eat a dairy's worth of ice 
cream." replied Danny, "how can you eat so much?"
    Dru quickly stopped and stared in embarrassment at Danny. 
She then looked about the store at the gaping customers. 
Then she leaned toward Danny and whispered. 
    "You mean this is a lot?"
    "Maybe where you come from it isn't but around here 
that's a kids allotment of ice cream for a whole year." 
replied Danny.
    Dru daintily plopped the straw on the counter and 
pushed the glass away in a quick, non-chalant manner. "Oh, 
well, I was done anyway. Besides, where I come from we don't 
have anything like ice cream sundaes or chocolate malts or 
rootbeer floats ...." and as she listed off all the desert 
treats in the store she stared hungrily at the half empty 
cup with her big brown eyes in an almost hypnotic trance. 
    "Well... uh... I was wondering if you'd like to go for 
a ride with me in my car?" sheepishly asked Danny as he 
slowly waved his hand in her face in a vain attempt to disrupt 
her craving stare.
    "Ride? What ride?" asked Drucella as the spell was 
suddenly broken.
    "My car. I have a car. Would you like to go for a ride in 
it?" asked Danny again impatiently.
    Remembering what Diana said, Drucella thought that 
running around town with a strange boy could be construded 
as 'getting into trouble' though the idea sent a slight 
tingle down her spine. 
    "Oh, I better not. My sister's expecting me to come 
home soon. In fact, I think I hear her now." Dru said as she 
perked her ear toward the door in a kind of pretend 
listening motion.
    "Uh, I don't hear anything. Are you sure you can't go 
for a ride? I know you'd love it." the boy pleaded.
    "Oh believe me, when my sister wants your attention, you 
can't refuse it." said Dru as she walked out the door of the 
drugstore and headed for Diana's apartment. 
    "And I bet it would have been fun too." Dru thought in 
disgust, "Oh, Diana, why do you have to be so boring!"
    After several minutes of figuring out how the key 
worked in the lock, Drucella plodded into Diana's apartment 
and plopped down on the couch. Immediately she sprang up and 
headed for the icebox. After perusing the contents for 
several minutes, she slammed the door in disgust.
    "Diana you eat like a rabbit. No ice cream at all just 
vegetables, vegetables and more vegetables!" Drucella 
blurted out.
    As the door slammed shut, however, Dru noticed a note 
stuck to the handle. "Its a note from Diana." Reading it 
semi-out loud in a bored, droning way, Dru tossed it down on 
the kitchen table and stomped angrily back into the living 
room. "Got to work late... Got to work late" she mockingly 
repeated the note's message. "I guess I'll just have to sit 
here and read..."
    At that moment the phone rang. At first Dru had no idea 
what was going on. The bell sound rang out like a crying 
baby wanting attention. Dru sat up and in a panic twirling 
about the room in a frenzy.
    "OK, Diana told me about these things. A phone... yeah 
she said its a black thing..." and Drucella began to hunt 
for the source of the ringing sound. Seeing what she thought 
was it, Dru picked up the handset and brought it to her 
face. 
    "Diana... is that you?" Dru said as she closed one eye 
and stared into the receiver. The voice on the other end 
appeared to be blurting out tons of indiscernible information 
and rambled on frantically.
    "Uh, hello.." said Dru again slowly as she put the 
handset to her mouth. "Diana... Diana... You've got to 
send help quickly." blurted the frantic voice.
    "Um... uh...  this isn't Diana, I'm her sis...." Drucella 
started to say.
    "I'm in grave danger. There's a secret Nazi base here 
at Bricksburg, off Goose Island road on the beach. A U-Boat 
base and everything. And you're not going to believe this 
but the Countess is also here."  rambled Pamela, "Oh my 
God... I've got to go. Come to Bricksburg..." click.
    Dru held the phone away from her face and stared at it 
again in complete confusion. "What was that all about?" she 
thought. "Hey, wait a minute. That woman said Nazis. Those 
are Diana's enemies." "If I could catch them that will prove 
to Diana I can take care of myself!" exclaimed Drucella. 
    "But how do I get to this Bricksburg?" she wondered. 
Suddenly, a childishly, devilish gleam came to her eye and 
picking up a pen and paper she quickly jotted down a note:

Dear Diana:
Gone to catch some Nazi named the Countess in Bricksburg.
Will be back for dinner (or at least desert).

Love and Kisses 

Drucella

    Propping the note on the phone, she bolted for the door 
and headed for the drugstore. "I hope that Danny Daniel boy 
still wants to give me a ride." she said to herself.
    -     -     -
    Pamela quickly hung up the dime store phone and darted 
around the back of the phone booth. The two men who walked 
in the front door looked awfully suspicious but her paranoia 
was confirmed when the courteous store owner happily pointed 
toward booth and the two men started back toward her.
    Looking about frantically she noticed the backdoor and 
made a bee line for it. The two men would have to zig zag 
past several aisles of canned and grocery goods to reach the 
phone booth and she was sure they didn't see her duck down 
the little hallway that led to the rear exit.
    Watching behind her she quickly opened the door and 
bolted out. Halfway out the door into the alley, she felt a 
strong arm grab her from one side of the exit. The arm 
wrapped around her waist and pulled her off to one side, 
throwing her off balance.
    As she was pulled over to the side, another man wearing 
a black raincoat rushed her from the front and wrapped both 
his arms around her bare legs, lifting them off the ground 
and firmly holding them at bay. Her hips and thighs twisted 
and gyrated against the man's superior grip as she fought to 
get away.
    At the same time, the man behind her reached up and 
place a folded handkerchief over her nose and mouth. The 
overpowering waves of chloroform fumes blasted into her 
lungs and she struggled in vain to escape their 
anesthetizing effects.
    The three combatants formed a wriggling mass of arms 
and legs as Pamela thrusted and twisted to free herself. Her 
bare legs and round, full hips surged up and around in 
massive arcs as the two men held their prey from escaping. 
Like a snake pinned from both ends, her shapely body could 
only twist and wiggle in futile defiance as she continued to 
breathe in the anesthetic.
    As the three continued their gyrating dance, a black 
sedan quickly pulled up with the rear door flying open to 
scoop up the helpless blonde. The man holding Pamela's legs 
backed into the rear, pulling in the struggling girl while 
the other man forced her upper body into the back seat, 
making sure the chloroform stayed over her mouth. He then 
climbed in himself and sat down, laying Pamela's upper body 
on his lap. The other man, with his right arm clapped around 
her thighs, pulled her hips onto his lap and held her 
thrusting body down with his other arm. At the same time the 
rear door slammed shut and the car took off toward the 
north.
    After about 20 seconds, Pamela's darting, frantic eyes 
began to grow heavy from sleep. Like a sponge, the 
handkerchief slowly soaked away her consciousness until her 
fiery struggles were stilled. Pamela sank into the back 
seat, letting out a low, dull, muffled moan as she 
surrendered to the chloroform.
    As soon as the blonde agent was unconscious, the man 
holding the handkerchief, continued to hold it in place. He 
then removed another handkerchief from his coat pocket and 
proceeded to tie it around her mouth. This kept the drug 
soaked handkerchief in place while also gagging the sleeping 
girl. 
    At the same time the second man rolled Pamela over, 
pulling both her hands behind her back. He then produced a 
length of thin, white rope and, while crossing her hands 
behind her back, he wrapped it several times horizontally 
and then vertically around her wrists, tying it just tight 
enough as to not cut off her circulation but tight enough to 
keep her securely bound.
    He then brought the long end of the rope down the back 
of her legs and wrapped it several times around her ankles, 
securing her bundled legs with several tight knots. The two 
men then rolled the bound and gagged Pamela over on her back 
and slid her down their legs onto the floor of the car, 
laying her on her back between 
the front and rear seats.
    Both men stared down at Pamela and their gaze moved 
slowly over her helpless body. "These American women are so 
beautiful eh Fritz." said the one man as he put his hand on 
her bare knee and began sliding it slowly up and down the 
inside of her firm, soft thigh. "Ya, I will enjoy, ehem, 
interrogating her." the other said as a deviantly wicked 
smile came across his face.