Wonder Woman: Obsolete (part 3)

(Sorry it's so late, guys! I kept wanting to wrap it up, but more ideas came and I didn't want to rush through. 

I'm making an executive decision for the next story: it will be Arya. The guys that dig superheroines got two in a row, so now we'll give the other guys Arya, then the NEXT story will be Spidergwen. Hope this doesn't annoy anyone, I just want everyone to get what they want sometimes!)

Diana slept not only the entire trip to Fausta’s compound, but through the night and to the next day as well. In fact, she only awoke when Fausta and her men came for her, taking her out of her cell on a leash to give her a brief tour of the facilities.

After that, she was fed and the work began.

Dressed in a black one-piece swimsuit, Diana was taken to a specialized gym to find the limits of her athletic abilities. The room was filled with machines capable of simulating massive amounts of weight through hydraulics, magnetism, and mechanical resistance. She was closely filmed from several angles as she lifted increasingly heavier and heavier weights, using various different muscles. A few of the machines couldn’t generate enough resistance to overcome her strength, and one of them actually broke under the strain, but in many others Diana lifted until she could lift no longer. Each time she would crumple, panting, red-faced, and Fausta would grin, then make a note on her clipboard. It was utterly exhausting and left her muscles shaking, buckling.

That was only the first day.

The next day they tested her endurance, gauging how many times she could lift a certain amount, how far she could sprint before muscle failure, how long she could hold different athletic poses. Fausta kindly explained that this was only to find a baseline, that they would test her capabilities more accurately when she was fully rested. Regardless of the reason, it was harder than any training she’d done on Themyscira, physically breaking her down rather than trying to build her up. She was kept well fed and hydrated, vitals watched at all times, but that night she had to be helped back to her cell and when she laid down in her cot, she almost immediately fell to sleep.

The third day was more of the same. And the fourth. And the fifth.

On the sixth day she began to feel somewhat detached from reality. She was so tired, so far past her physical capabilities, she stumbled wherever she was taken in a daze, her head feeling like it was stuffed with cotton. She followed instructions without thinking, barely noticed anything happening around her, only moving from one miserable station to the next. Her body simply began to fail her, not obeying her commands, performing well below what she was usually capable of and waking up weaker each day.

It wasn’t until the eighth day that there was a break in the routine.

That day the lights in her cell clapped on and the bars to her cell opened before she could even get up. She forced her eyes to peel open, vision cloudy and initially not remembering where she was. Her body was paralyzed with exhaustion, weighed down by the sky itself as she rested on her side, defeated by sheer attrition. She heard footsteps approaching but didn’t even turn her head to see who approached, her neck so stiff it felt locked in place. She merely stared at the blurry wall beside her cot, lying still for as long as she could before they made her move.

The footsteps stopped beside her, then her cot shifted as someone sat down on the edge. They settled beside her, remaining close and quiet. With her back turned to them she couldn’t see who they were or what they were doing and she hardly cared. She let the wonderful silence hang, relishing each precious second of rest.

Eventually a hand rested on her thigh and smoothed up and down her hip, which rounded up like a small hill as she rested on her side. Dressed in her usual black one-piece, the smooth skin of her leg was open to exploration, shining and tight. The hand felt the entire length, tracing the groove that ran between the muscles on the side of the amazon’s thigh, back up over her protruding hip.

“Mmm,” Fausta murmured to herself, “My Wonder Woman.”

Her hand painted paths on every angle of Diana’s legs, even finding its way around the amazon’s rounded rump before tracing up the curve of her back.

The stroking melted Diana’s body. The warmth of a human hand smoothing across her skin calmed her mind, reassured her on a deep level even superheroes needed. It rhythmically, persistently brushed away her troubles. She let her eyes close.

Fausta got up from her seat, then sat down closer to the end of the cot, where she could reach Diana’s shoulders.

“Even a goddess has limits, Diana,” the villainess traced the muscular grooves on her back, “And you’ve reached yours, it seems. Judging by your vitals, I think it unlikely you would survive another day of physical tests without becoming permanently damaged.”

Her hand moved to the heroine’s hair. She ran her nails through the dark locks, from her scalp to the very end of the silky fibers, then drew back up to start again.

“And that is not what I want,” she explained as she stroked Diana’s hair, “Today will be much easier. You will recover, heal, and rest.”

Diana began to drift away under the gentle stroking, sleep creeping up on her. Her breathing grew deep and even. Fingertips grazed down her shoulder and arm, feeling the smooth skin and the firm muscle beneath. She let the sensations wash over her, deliciously comfortable, even at peace.

Fausta paused to lift the amazon’s wrist from the cot, holding it up between thumb and forefinger. Fascinated, she traced a finger over the palm, down the seemingly delicate tendons in the wrist, along the forearm to the bicep. In this arm alone there was enough power to rend her like wet bread, but it was so soft, even fragile. The skin was creamy, the arm itself light, giving gently when she squeezed, pliable as that of any woman’s, yet capable of punching through steel.

An uncharacteristically wild grin turned up Fausta’s lips as she laid them arm back down, then groped along Diana’s hip. It was exhilarating to handle and touch her, even play with the powerful body that could destroy her with laughable ease. Such incredible strength and speed, not to mention the skill of the amazon warrior wielding it, yet she, Fausta Garbles, was mistress. Through her own wit and labor she’d brought down the immortal Wonder Woman in a way no force of arms ever could. And now the mightiest woman in the world was hers to do with as she wished.

Fausta leaned down to press a kiss to Diana’s shoulder. She held it long enough to enjoy the soft skin beneath her lips before drawing back with a faint smack.

The moments of pleasure couldn’t last forever, though. With work that needed to be done, Fausta patted the amazon’s hip and spoke in a louder voice.

“Come, Wonder Woman,” she stood from the cot, “Up. No more resting until later.”

Diana moaned faintly. It was a testament to how spent and demoralized she was that she laid there for several seconds, unwilling to move. She had faced hard training on Themyscria and always risen immediately when directed; it was the amazon way. Now the very thought of getting up was overwhelming.

“Up, up, up!” Fausta clapped her hands, “No more lying down. It’s time to move about.”

With great effort, Diana managed to roll over onto her back. She pushed until she flopped over onto her shoulders, peeling her eyes open to stare weakly at her German owner. She still intended to get up, but that was all she could handle for the moment. Breasts heaving with distress, she caught her breath, pretty face sad and uncomfortable.

It was in Fausta’s nature to be short and brook no laziness; she held a high standard for herself and anyone else that worked for her. Yet as she watched, she couldn’t help but feel pity for the poor, beaten woman lying before her. Rather than snapping or offering a stern warning, the villainess sighed and slowly shook her head.

“Come now, Diana,” she said gently, “You must get up, my dear. Sit up first…”

Bending down, took the heroine’s shoulder and scooped behind her head, drawing her up.

Diana moaned again and lifted her back from the cot. She gradually sat up, eyes squeezing shut as her head began to throb, feeling dizzy after lying still for so long.

“Up… there we are…” Fausta cooed, stroking the heroine’s hair, “If you stay still for too long, your muscles will cramp. Now sit up off the cot… Gently…”

Slowly, she helped Diana turned in place, swiveling her towards the edge of the cot. She was careful, allowing the heroine to take her time, cooing gentle words of praise and comfort in German.

“Ah, meine sussle… so schon… so eine gute Madchen…”

Head hanging, Diana finally managed to turn until her legs hung off the cot, allowing her to slump forward.

“Da ist meine kleines Wunder…” Faust whispered to her, massaging her shoulders, “So stark und schon… so machtig…”

She stroked the hair from Diana’s brow, then pressed a kiss to her forehead.

“Stay there for now, my little amazon champion,” she said in that same gentle tone, “Let your body acclimate. It’s not good to rise too quickly.”

Diana nodded, gradually blinking her eyes wider as her vision began to clear. It was easier to stay up than get up and though every muscle was as tight as a coiled spring, she was beginning to feel more normal, each breath less difficult. She didn’t have the strength to lift her head yet or look up at Fausta, but she could stay in this position, let her body ease back into supporting itself again.

While her charge recovered, Fausta stood back upright and reached to her hip, where the lariat of Hestia hung coiled from her belt. She kept it with her at all times, it being an invaluable tool she wouldn’t risk being stolen, as well as something to help keep her most powerful prisoner under control.

“I’ll take you for a small walk, first,” the villainess explained as she found the end of the lasso, “It will loosen the stiffness of your body and balance your metabolism. Then you’ll have a nice breakfast, perhaps even some pudding since you’ve been so well behaved.”

Since Diana’s imprisonment, Fausta had made a little addition to the golden lasso on her own time. In her spare time and using the strongest alloy she could conjure, the villainess had forged a ringlet with a small clip and welded it to the end of the lanyard. It was a temporary measure until she could master the processes that went into creating Wonder Woman’s magical items, but for now it would serve its purpose admirably.

Leaning down, she brushed Diana’s hair from her neck to reveal the leather collar the heroine had worn since her arrival. Again it was a temporary measure and would be easily torn free if Wonder Woman put a moment of effort into it, but for now it suited. She lifted the ringlet on the front of the collar and clipped the end of the golden lanyard on.

She gave it a little tug to make sure it was secure. The lariat of Hestia was now the leash of Hestia.

“And up now,” Fausta smiled down at her charge, “Slow and nice. Carefully.”

A steady pull on the leash directed Diana to rise. She did so with a wince, her legs quaking, cramps making them resist straightening. She wobbled, managed to lift her hindquarters off the cot, then Fausta took her by the arm to help. Slowly she rose, like a decrepit crone.

The mere act of standing upright stretched the constricted muscles in the backs of her legs. Diana grunted in discomfort, her knees locking, stiff as spear shafts.

“It will hurt at first, but feel better later,” Fausta reassured her, “After your breakfast, you will have some therapy for your poor body. It will hurt as well at first, but it will help you heal.”

Now that the heroine was on her feet, Fausta slowly stepped back, allowing her to support herself.

The mighty amazon wobbled and stumbled in place, like she was standing on stilts. Being upright helped, but her legs alternately stiffened and buckled, strong enough to press a dozen school buses but so sore they could barely hold her up. Head lowered in misery, she glanced towards Fausta, a small part of her hoping the woman would see how badly she was hurting and let her rest a while longer.

Fausta smiled and took another step back, “Good. Now come to me, like a mighty amazon princess. Come. You can do it.”

Diana lowered her eyes to her feet. Her legs were still trembling slightly, feeling like they’d either collapse or lock into a rictus. She’d never thought taking a step could be so daunting.

Fausta took another small step, drawing on the leash.

“Come, Diana. One step and then another. It will be easier once you get started.”

Diana tried to slowly lift a foot, but almost fell when the opposite leg buckled. She caught herself with a gasp, knees quivering, cringing as her legs screamed in protest.

“Oopsala…” Fausta sighed, “Try again. I know it hurts, my liebchen…”

Despite her weariness and the massive drop in her self-esteem, Diana still blushed at the villainess. Being so weak she could barely stand was embarrassing in itself and the juvenilizing encouragement, like she was a little baby learning to walk, only compounded it. What’s more, she wasn’t sure she didn’t need the gentle words and coaxing coos.

The princess heaved a shuddering sigh, returning her attention to her legs. With a bit of effort, she managed to lunge forward and plant her foot, steadied herself, then repeated the process with her other foot.

“There it is,” Fausta cooed, drawing on the leash as she took a few more steps back, “It will get easier.”

Biting her lip, Diana followed the tugs on her leash, her steps coming more naturally as she worked some of the stiffness from her legs. She had to concentrate, but gradually her balance improved as Fausta led her from her cell. Soon she could walk easily enough that the villainess turned around and led her without looking, picking up a more pedestrian pace, if not brisk.

“Just a brief stroll,” Fausta glanced over her shoulder, “Then you can rest a bit. You’ll feel better.”

Diana nodded wearily and lowered her eyes, watching her feet as she followed behind her captor.

Most the of the walk was through places Diana had already been. The facility was a large campus, one story with lots of rooms she had yet to see inside but had passed on her way to the gym where she’d been worked almost to death. It was sterile and clean, more like a hospital than a university, obviously furnished for practicality rather than décor. The workers and other scientists they encountered always nodding in deference to Fausta as she passed, while also staring at her scantily clad prisoner.

Diana stayed a few paces behind her, head lowered, eyes only occasionally glancing about.

“I was able to secure some patents after I fled from Germany,” the villainess explained as they strolled through her kingdom, “Then I took on some contracts for a few men in this hemisphere and was solvent enough for my own operations. Now my little lab is a campus of eight different buildings, with a staff of over 300, and then another 1000 soldiers.”

She paused to glance inside a window, noting the work of the men inside, then moved on.

“Most of the scientists are like me, refugees from their own countries. There are a few Germans, many locals fleeing from civil wars, and many more from the Eastern bloc who escaped the iron curtain before it came down. In this part of the world, money goes much farther, and with so little oversight.”

They stopped at another room, this one with steel double doors, the lock controlled by a number pad. There were no windows to see inside, the doors thick and clearly reinforced, a camera positioned just above to see who passed in and out.

Fausta stepped in front of the keypad, blocking Diana’s view while she entered the combination, then took the handle and pulled it open. The door hissed as a sound-proof seal was broken and the shrill whine of power tools rang out from inside, along with the grinding of heavy machines.

Holding the door open, Fausta pulled on the leash to draw her prisoner towards her.

Diana meekly followed the leash’s tug, stumbling up to her owner and allowing the woman to place a hand on the small of her back.

“This place is already a light of industry and scientific advancement in the darkness of this continent,” Fausta grinned, her eyes narrowed, “But soon, with the discoveries I will make with you, it will be world renowned.”

The villainess pulled the door open wide and stepped through, guiding Diana beside her, shoulder to shoulder.

The heroine kept her eyes lowered, much too tired to care about Fausta’s scientific accomplishments. She allowed herself to be led in, the door hissing shut behind them, only wearily lifting her eyes once before lowering them once again.

What she saw made her quickly raise her eyes again, her lips parting.

The chamber was a large metallurgical workshop, where dozens of men in protective suits and face shields plied their trade, which at the moment was mostly the armor and weapons of Wonder Woman. The red breastplate sat in a vat of chemical solution, while one of the shining greaves was lifted out of a vat beside it by a mechanical claw, dripping green fluid. The leather had been removed from both, stripping them down to their metal pieces.

Diana turned as a crackling sound caught her attention and saw another man leaning over one of her bracers with a hand-held cutting device. While she watched, the men pressed the glowing tip of his tool to the edge of her bracer and sparks flew up, the crackling continuing until he managed to remove a tiny flake from the nigh indestructible metal. Once done, he set the tool done, brushed the bit of shining metal into a little bag, then resumed his work, passionlessly taking samples from the amazon artifact.

Diana stiffened, her eyes widening.

“We’ve already learned much,” Fausta explained, “The alloy has traces of the same energy that fuels your abilities, but it’s weakened by the correct application of acids and heat. Enough that it can be broken apart for closer examination, at least.”

She ran her fingers through Diana’s hair, stroking her while the stunned heroine looked around the lab.

In the corner of the shop, several men waited beside a large machine that looked somewhat like a laundry press. They opened it and a freezing mist rose from the lid, like liquid nitrogen. The men waited for a moment for the fog to dissipate, then two of them reached in with elongated pincers to draw out Diana’s sword, stained white and crackling as it went from near absolute zero to room temperature.

In other parts of the room, men were peering through electron microscopes, or subjecting bits of her sacred items to high powered lasers or diamond saws. And to Diana’s horror, they were having success.

The princess almost fell and Fausta looped an arm around her waist with a coo. Using her body to support the stunned amazon, she guided Diana’s head onto her shoulder, letting it rest there, then continued to stroke her hair.

“Oh, sussle…” she whispered, “You’re so tired. We will get you fed soon, but I wanted you to see first. To understand.”

Diana rested her cheek on Fausta’s shoulder, accepting the support, and gazed around the room with big, haunted eyes. She’d handed over her armor and weapons knowing the woman would try to replicate them, discern their secrets, even keep them as trophies. What she hadn’t thought possible was that the science of man’s world would find their weaknesses so quickly. She’d expected these men to be mystified by the magic and artistry of amazon craftsmanship. Instead, they were calmly, systematically dismantling it, dissecting it, judging and critiquing.

As if sensing the direction of her captive’s thoughts, Fausta smiled, then pressed her lips to the top of Diana’s head.

“Poor thing,” she murmured, rocking the amazon gently, “I studied scraps of amazon metal for 11 years before you came into my possession. You shouldn’t be surprised that I’ve learned. I only needed you to fill in the blanks.”

Diana was held for several more seconds, rocked and petted. She stared emptily as the men continued their work.

“It is all for the best, my Wonder Woman.”

Fausta turned Diana in place, guiding her towards the door.

“Now, let’s go to breakfast,” she patted the amazon on the bottom, “It will be good for you. We must keep up your strength.”

Diana stumbled beside her captor as she was led away from the sounds of industry and experimentation, into the quiet of the hallway outside.

-----

Just as Fausta had said, Diana was taken to a small room to be fed, and she did get to have a chocolate pudding. Rather than watching and making notes from afar, with armed men standing ready, the villainess stayed close to her now, talking gently, occasionally petting. Other than the man that brought Diana her meal, it was just the two of them and she found it surprisingly comforting.

After breakfast, she was walked to a different lab, where men in scrubs and white coats were waiting. Fausta unclipped her leash and allowed the men to take her. They handled her carefully and Diana cooperated with their instructions. She didn’t even meet their eyes.

First Diana was placed on a table, lying still while the men in the coats manipulated her limbs, stretching them and loosening them up. It was comfortable on the table and she would have liked to have gone to sleep, but many of the stretches hurt a good deal, drawing her back from her rest. She moaned occasionally, clenching her eyes closed as she bore through the discomfort.

None of the men spoke to her or commented on the sounds she made. She was just a subject to them, like a frog on a dissection table.

Diana found part of her missed Fausta’s gentle cooing, her reassuring strokes.

After the stretches, she was directed to do several light movements and exercises, often holding uncomfortable poses. They would have been nothing to her before, but now her body quivered and wobbled, the effort making her break out in a clammy sweat and leaving her out of breath. The men stood close by and watched, moving her body if she did a pose wrong, but they never caught her if she fell or helped her steady herself.

On an elevated level, standing at a guard rail, Fausta watched with the other doctors. They loomed, staring intently, making observations, scribbling on clipboards, and conferring with one another.

“It’s an interesting… dichotomy,” a Polish scientist leaned toward Fausta, “The subject’s physical exertion seems to be directly related to her other supernatural attributes. Her speed and strength have diminished in a sudden, disproportionate level compared to her first few days of testing. When we began, she could press over 500,000 kilos, now she can barely hold her own weight. Her ability to fly and her supernatural durability have also diminished, with no noticeable changes to her appearance!”

“That’s correct.” The villainess replied, “I suspect the subject’s ‘heroic’ abilities come from an internal energy source we aren’t yet able to measure. Magic, for lack of a better term. Once she exhausted that energy source, we began to see physical symptoms such as muscle tears and bruising of ligaments. I would say that at the moment her capabilities are only a slight outlier beyond those of an average female athlete.”

Below, one of the handlers directed Wonder Woman to come with them towards a different machine. The amazon staggered, shoulders slumped, even this light exercise being almost too much for her.

“It will be a hypothesis we explore, absolutely,” another scientist agreed, “If we see that… supernatural energy return.”

“It will,” Fausta smiled, “And when it does, we will be that much closer to harnessing it.”

After the exercises, one of the men took a vial of blood from Diana’s arm and she was laid on another table where her body was given a complete scan. She fell asleep as doctors surrounded the table to examine her, touching, prodding, and taking notes. Occasionally they would ask her to open her mouth or make a fist or lift her arm and she would wake up enough to do so, then quickly drift away again.

While the scientists examined skin and hair samples, Diana was woken up and walked to a large cylindrical tank that somewhat resembled an iron lung. From inside the cylinder, her handlers wheeled out a vinyl gurney, laid her down on it, then wheeled her back in. Once she was inside, they sealed the chamber with a heavy, pressure-controlling hatch.

Inside the tank it was completely silent and Diana closed her eyes once more. Through the thick glass of an observation window, she could have watched men turning dials and flipping switches, but she let them do as they liked. Through the window she looked like Snow White in her casket, porcelain-featured, innocent, beautiful, dark hair forming a pillow for one cheek, her full lips pursed as if waiting for the prince’s kiss.

The peace didn’t last long. A warbled thrumming began, like a low-running fan, and it soon began to get cold inside the chamber. Very, very cold.

Diana frowned, blinking her eyes open as she began to shiver. She crossed her arms over her chest, squeezing herself as tightly as she could as her teeth chattered. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been cold. Her powers had allowed her to survive the vacuum of space, as well as a dive into molten steel without more than a passing discomfort. She had forgotten how painful it was, how vulnerable it made her feel.

The cold gripped her like a vice, sinking into her muscles and bones. At first it almost caused her to panic, but then she noticed another symptom. The ache in her muscles slowly faded, like cold water being poured on a burn. Her body began to move easier, despite being rigid from shivering, the cramps easing.

By the time they unsealed the hatch and wheeled her back out, she was still shivering, pale, her lips slightly blue, but she was somehow more relaxed, in less pain. When the men helped her sit up, their hands were invitingly warm. Back in room temperature, she felt somehow drowsier than she had before, but pleasantly so. Like she would have enjoyed a nice sleep, rather than yearning for unconsciousness to escape her misery.

The men stood around her talking and she barely noticed, sagging in her seat until her head was almost between her legs. There voices were muffled and far away, unimportant, nothing to do with her. She would have been happy to stay as she was, her mind drifting in a pleasant fog, but all too soon someone clipped her leash onto her collar and it was time to go.

The person with her leash guided her out of the room and back down the hallway. Diana shuffled after them, eyes at least half closed the entire way. Several times she stumbled into the wall or made a wrong turn and her handler gently tugged her back in the right direction. They spoke to her on occasion but she didn’t really hear them. She didn’t care who they were or where they were going, only vaguely hoping it would be somewhere comfortable she could rest.

Eventually they stepped through a door and Diana followed them through. She noticed the floor was smoother than the hallway, a bit cooler on her bare feet, but didn’t bother looking around. Her handler put a hand on her shoulder and she stopped and a moment later she heard the door close.

“Stand here, Diana.” A familiar voice said.

Diana’s eyes closed, her head drooping down as the woman unbuckled her collar and drew it iff. Even standing still was enough comfort for her to begin dozing, her mind sinking back into that pleasant fog.

The other woman was moving around the room. Diana heard her footsteps, a plop as she set the collar down on something, then the squeak of a faucet and the drizzle of running water. There were a few more squeaks, a ruffle of cloth, the rattling of rings and the rustle of a curtain, but she didn’t bother interpreting what the sounds meant. Her consciousness faded in and out, at most only half in that room.

While her handler made the preparations, Diana swayed gently in place, only doing the bare minimum to stay upright. She tilted one way, then when she felt herself begin to fall, let herself drift back, her shoulders slouched forwards, her mouth ajar. Knees buckled until they pinched together, she let time slip away.

It was a small surprise when hands cupped her cheeks, lifting her head back upright. It startled her enough to blink her eyes open.

Her eyes focused enough to see Fausta wearing a coy grin, staring at her with an expression that verged on affectionate.

“You need a proper bathing,” the villainess said softly, “But you are in no state to scrub yourself, are you?”

Diana didn’t at all mind the warm hands on her face, the gentle voice cooing to her. She let her eyes drift closed again and drooped forward, using the hands to support her.

“No.” Fausta teased, “I would say you need some help, my mighty amazon warrior.”

Warm lips pressed themselves to Diana’s cheek, then one of the hands moved down to take the strap of her leotard. It was drawn off her shoulder, allowed to hang, then the hands switched, the first holding up the heroine’s head, while the other drew the strap off on the other side.

Once both straps were free, Fausta gently lowered Diana’s head back down, letting her gradually support herself again, before using both hands to roll the snug spandex down the drowsy amazon’s body.

Despite her athleticism, the amazon princess owned a pair of firm, rounded breasts. They bounced free as the leotard came down over the tips, then scrunched down over her taut stomach.

Diana didn’t seem to notice as her only shred of clothing came down, her swaying, barely conscious state remaining intact as it was worked over her hips, coming untucked from the nooks in her flanks and crotch. She felt her body being revealed but was well past caring about dignity or modesty.

The leotard plopped at her feet, crinkled and small without her body to fill it.

“There now,” Fausta took her by the arm, “Come. Just a few steps.”

Diana turned and stumbled in the direction she was led without opening her eyes. Her owner kept a firm, but gentle grip on her arm, not letting her wander as she was led toward the sound of the drizzling water. She stepped inside a smaller chamber, the pats of her footfalls and the sounds of the running water much closer, echoing off glass.

“You have been a very good little amazon,” Fausta said, her voice echoing as well, “So humble and cooperative. This will feel good to you.”

The drizzling sound came closer, then suddenly a rush of warmth poured down her shoulder, flowing down her arm.

Diana’s eyes fluttered open and she let out a soft gasp. Hot water, deliciously, lovingly hot water was caressing its way down her body, melting away the chill she’d suffered from the freezing tank. The heroine’s mouth fell open, the heat sending thrills down her skin, making her want to droop and stiffen at the same time.

“Unhh… ohhhhh…” she moaned as her eyes drifted closed again, basking in the wonderful sensations.

Her sleeves rolled up, standing just outside the small chamber on a towel, Fausta moved the shower head across the heroine’s chest to the other shoulder, watching the pouring water make Diana’s skin glisten.

“Yes,” she said lightly, “It’s nice, isn’t it? Such little things can bring such great pleasure.”

As she wetted the princess’s body, her other hand came up to cup Diana’s shining breast. The water ran over both and Fausta spread it around to the other breast, then back again, her palm slipping over the now-wet shapes.

“Such a beautiful creature…” the villainess gently massaged a bared breast, “Impossibly flawless. That alone makes you a subject worth… exploring…”

She smiled then brought the showerhead to Diana’s scalp, running her fingers through the silky raven hair as it began to cling with moisture.

Diana moaned again, tilting her head back to let some of the water run down her face.

“And a powerful enemy of my country,” Fausta said, continuing to comb her fingers through the amazon’s soaking hair, “Yet you accepted my terms so readily, gave yourself so easily.”

Diana found herself listening to the close words, almost in a trance, held firmly in the possessive embrace of pleasure.

Fausta smoothed the heroine’s hair back, now slicked and clinging to her head and neck.

“You were trapped,” her hand smoothed back down, running the water over the heroine’s belly button, “But you could have still fought. I had other avenues prepared if you attempted to escape, but I had no need to use them. I didn’t have to threaten with the pulses, only remind you they were there.”

The water ran over Diana’s hips and legs and Fausta’s hand slipped between her thighs.

“Nhhh…” a soft sound escaped the amazon’s lips.

Fausta’s eyes narrowed, grinning like a fox.

“You were tired, weren’t you?” she whispered, “Struggling so long in a world not your own, no purpose. Something inside you had surrendered long before…”

She drew closer to press to her lips and nose to the heroine’s slippery neck. The skin was so soft, smooth, like a girl’s.

Diana’s head unconsciously tilted to the side, welcoming the touch of warm breath and skin. The water and the soft touches were ecstasy after her ordeal. She didn’t want it to stop. She wanted more of all of it.

Fausta laughed gently into the soft neck as the amazon cooed. Her prisoner melted wherever she touched or moved the shower head.

She drew back to look upon Diana’s face. The heroine’s eyes were closed, pretty lips parted, as if trying to give voice to the rush of sensations filling her up. Her trim, athlete’s body was slumped and exposed, even offered up, utterly vulnerable.

With a wicked smile, Fausta ran the showerhead over the heroine’s breasts once more, making her sigh.

The villainess was getting damp herself in this process, but it was worth it. She had more complete control of the most powerful woman on earth. And all she needed was the gentlest touch of her hand.

“Oh, the immortal and powerful Wonder Woman.” Fausta’s eyes gleamed, “You were ready to be taken. Ready to submit yourself to a victorious foe. Ready to… release the courage you’d held so long.”

The amazon opened her eyes just enough to see her mistress’s grinning face.

“It was the wise choice,” Fausta whispered, “You will serve mankind now in the way you should: by serving me.”

Diana didn’t know why she spoke. She wasn’t compelled by the lasso and only barely comprehended what the other woman was saying, but something about Fausta’s presence drew a single word from her.

“Yes…” she whispered back, her voice breathy and soft.

* * *

Within a year, Fausta’s facility had become the scientific Mecca she had envisioned.

At first, the world had been skeptical of the footage Frau Garbles had distributed. An armored goddess surrendering, men performing feats of impossible strength, the displays of nearly indestructible metals; it all seemed too outlandish to be anything other than a hoax. However, after Fausta had cajoled a few foreign scientists to see her demonstrations in person, word had quickly spread. Any past crimes were forgotten; the Kremlin and the Pentagon both began bidding not only for her inventions, but to be her sole customer.

Within the following year, she was by far the richest person on the planet. Fausta’s facility was more like a small city, one tightly secured and armed to keep her secrets safe. Only a few were allowed to see the inner workings of the place or to meet Fausta herself, and everyone that did were amazed at how youthful and strong the woman looked. She didn’t seem older than 24 and she even seemed to glow slightly, like a golden, Aryan goddess.

Anyone wealthy or powerful enough to see that much of Fausta’s operation also had the pleasure of meeting another beautiful woman, exotic with dark hair, very rarely wearing more than a swimsuit. She had the same glow as Fausta, but none of the woman’s commanding presence. She was cooperative, polite, eager to please, and even devoted to her mistress. She would often entertain with feats of athleticism, an exotic dance, or even serving drinks or food.

Within a hundred years, it was still much the same. Fausta was still beautiful, as was her lovely companion, while everyone who had ever remembered the name “Wonder Woman” were long dead.

Fausta never gave up all her secrets. And she never gave up the meek prisoner she’d collected in those days long past.