Wonder Woman: Network Nightmare

by Kurt Knout

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© Copyright 2009 - Kurt Knout - Used by permission

Storycodes: MF/f; bond; hum; public; rope; gag; kidnap; superhneroine; reluct/nc; X

Dianne–Wonder Woman––was nervous as she fidgeted in front of the full length mirror in the “green room”; she was a few minutes away from her nationwide TV interview with Chandra Chan, the famously bitchy but wildly popular TV hostess. She smoothed her new costume against her body; was it too sheer? Probably; too late to change now.

The new red white and blue sheath was clinging, surely; maybe too clinging. The slim collar around her neck broadened to a tight halter that confined and separated her full breasts, then swooped down to a low cut band of fabric , well below her navel, that barely sheathed her pubic bulge, then cradling and outllining her vulvar crease, connected with the high hipped, almost thongllke strand of cloth barely holding her buttocks. She buckled on the heavy Amazon belt, source for much of her power; among other things, it kept the flimsy costume from sliding off her breasts.. “not quite naked” she thought, as she pirouetted and posed before the mirror; but, maybe this costume change is a -good idea. At least her PR team. Kevin and Andrea, had told her so. And besides, she looked so––sexy. She turned, posed once more, before she buckled on the magic cuffs.

“Three minutes, Wonder!––Holy shit!:”A stammering production asisstant gawked at the door. She squared her shoulders and strode to the stage.

She had expected a cosy studio audience; this was an arena! As she walked to he podium, she heard the raucous whistles and cheers; slightly flustered, she confronted her hostess. Carla Chan, wearing a rich brown silk pants suit, reached out to WW. The newswoman embraced her briefly, then stood back with a wide, profesional smile.

“Wonder Woman! So good to see––almost all of you!”––as the audience laughed. “I guess that’s a new costume, outfit, whatever?”

“Uh yes. Still the red white and blue, though. American values.” Even as she spoke, she realized how tight, how clinging, how––shameless––this new outfit was.

“But --so sexy! Turn around, if you will.” She guided a relucant WW into a full turn,. More whistles and applause. “You’re gorgeous! that bottom of yours is an American asset––value, too!–– have a seat.:”

The whistles and cat calls were loud; “shake that bootie’ someone shouted. WW sat, crossed her legs––more whistles––and smiled at her hostess. “As you know, Carla, I’ve come here tonight to talk to the young women of America, how they can best serve their...”

Carla cut her off: “We’ll certainly get to that. But first. You’ve made a little news yourself this week. On a competitor’s show––I won’t say her name––you had a rather revealing escape attempt, didn’t you? Roll the tape!”

WW winced as she reexperienced her recent debacle, now flickering on the big screen behind her. On the Janeesha show, the plump emcee had taunted her into an escape attempt. With her wrists handcuffed behind her, she had knelt, flexed, tugged her wrists over her bottom, rolled on on her back, jackknifed as she slipped her chained wrists over her chained feet, and in a few seconds, had the handcuffs at her mouth, where a concealed key between her teeth unlocked her; a famous Houdini effect.

Unfortunately, as she slid the cuffs over her ass, she had caught her trunks in the cuffs and tugged them down around her thighs as she struggled and bent over to facliitate her escape. The cameras caught her very bare ass, with a dark furry cleft between her buttocks. Just a split second, but with modern stop frame technology, now a slo-mo langorous moment As Carla showed it on the screen, the audience whooped its appoval.

Worse was to come. As the stop frame of her exposed bottom faded from the screen, Carla said: “And there was another episode this week; an unknown woman, dressed as a schoolgirl, was spanked in a downtown soda fountain; again, no panties. Our cameramen were there.
Who was that mystery woman? Let’s compare the images!”

WW tried to sit tall, but shrunk inwardly as the split screen now showed the two delectable asses; on the right, WW on Janeesha’s show; on the left, the provocative, slightly rosy from spanking, cheeks of the mystery lady, bent over a bit further, showing a puckered little anus, and fleshy labial lips ringed with brunette curls. The two seemed to match; very few asses were that resplendant.

The house lights went up. Carla’s voice was taunting: “Well. Wonder woman? Are both those --er--bottoms yours?”

“Carla.” WW was furious, but tried to keep her voice even.:” I’m feeling a bit betrayed, here. You invited me on to talk about my program for young women; And I get this ––this garbage! This Jerry Springer stuff! I’m leaving!”

“No. no––don’t go!” Carla protested, put her hand on WW, restraining her. “I apologize! I hadn’t screened those clips before. Please stay!”

WW , still shaken from the big screen blowups of her ass, gave Carla the benefit of the doubt. “Well, OK. If I get to give you my message.....”

Carla beamed. Was her professional smile a bit sinister, WW wondered. She didn’t trust this woman. “We all look forward to your message. But first, some of our audience may not know your history as a super herione. May I give a quick review?”

WW, still distrustful, nodded.

“A long time crimefighter and invaluable government agent, Wonder Woman has brought many enemies of our way of life to justice. She, however, seems to be involved in capture and bondage situations quite often; in short, she gets tied up a lot. And is famed for her dramatic escapes. Do you want to comment?”

“Sure. My assignments; I can’t really share them for security reasons, are often dangerous. Though I have what some people describe as super powers, I “––she shifted a bit seductively in her chair––”I have a woman’s––vulnerability. So, yes, in answer to your question, I have been tied, chained, tortured, violated, more often than I care to recall. Yet, here I am. A symbol, I hope. of our nation’s values.”

There was scattered, then general applause. With her wide phony smile, Carla continued: “Our next guest is retired Colonel Brent Snively. He is an interrogation expert who served in the CIA, and was the advisor for several South Amercan governments. He is an expert on bondage and escape artists. Please welcome him!”

Snively entered, stage left. He was not tall, but had a military bearing, balding, but with fierce bushy eyebrows and full moustache, piecing eyes and a thin lipped mouth, and, unfortunately, a weak chin; he nonetheless radiated self confidence in his dark grey military tunic, sharply creased trousers and polished boots.

WW was startled, then angry again. This--this evil man--she didn’t even want to recall their last encounter––why was he on this show? She had to ask; “Carla. Excuse me, but why is this discredited, demoted, discharged sadist here at all?”

Carla, with her wide insincere smile: “We must share alternate points of view; fair and balanced, that’s our motto––you are a celebrity––especially this week–– some would question your super heroine status. Colonel Snively is one of them.”

WW was stunned, unbelieving; she managed a tight little smile as Snively sat down on the interview couch next to her. “Great costume.” He whispered. “Really slutty!” WW stiffened; she would not talk to this odious man.

“So. Colonel, I hope you’re not trying to tarnish Wonder Woman’s impeccable reputation. I know you have a book coming out; could you tell us about it? “

Col. Snively leaned back, smiled a lopsided smile and said: “It’s about government bullshit––can I say that?–– and Wonder, here, is part of the problem. She’s got those bullet deflecting cuffs, and that magic lasso, and she’s strong and sexy as hell, if I may say so––look at tha† new costume, people––all tits and ass!–– but, this escape artist stuff is phony! I could tie up this lovely lady” he turned towards WW who was sitting rigid, seething with rage;.”and she would never escape. but I’m a pro. I’ll go further. Any tenderfoot or second class boy scout could do the same! Tie this natoinal super heroine, so called, and she’d be unable to free herself!”

WW voice was controlled, thouh she was trembling inside: immediate anger towwards Snively, a deeper rage against Carla and what seemed like a charater defaming program. She tried to stay civil:

“I should tell your audience, Carla, that the colonel and I are not strangers. For a time he ran a training program fot latin american thugs–– i use the word advisadly––with the complicit approval of our government, ul†imatly, his techniques became so criminal that he had to be stopped. I had one––very painful encounter with him a few years ago. .I‘d like to think tha† my efforts resulted in his discharge from the army. and his banishment from the other agencies that had supported his loathsome work..’ She took a deep breath.

. “The good colonel tries to besmirch my reputation, talks about boy scouts. knowing full well that there’s no.....””

“I’m a boy scout!” A hoarse little voice from the back of the hall.

Everyone froze for a moment.

“Well then, come on down, son!:” said Snively. WW looked at Carla. There wa a ninety secind commercial break. The network manager barked into her earphone: “Carla! You’ve got something goiing on here! Go with it; Get the boy scout to tie up wonder woman! What the hell. you‘re already out of line with those pussy shots! Go for it!”

During the commercial break, tihe boy scout had come down the aisle and onto the stage. He was short, heavy set, with a round head, close set eyes, thick lips, and oily hair straggling beneath his overseas scouting cap; but he wore the khaki shirt and shorts with the troop numbers sewn onto his sleeves, a khaki backpack and a neckerchief around his fat neck. Apparently, he was an authentic scout.

Carla had wished for an all american type, a youhful Brad Pitt. However. she sighed, and decided to go on with––with what?–– she wasn’t sure, but this was going to be more exiting than the usual interview with over the hill actors. The scout was now on stage, encouraged by the colonel, who had seemed to take over.

“Well. son” he beamed; good to see a young man in uniform! Tell me, do you know your ropes?. Knots. I should say.”

“Y-yes sir. I think so. Our scoutmaster lets us practice on him. but I’ve never--I mean, Wow! I’d love to tie up Wonder Woman! Who wouldn’t?” The audience laughed.

WW forced a smile. What was going on here? she spoke to the ugly little lad: “That’s a compliment, I guess__ I didn’t get your name.”

“I didn’t give it. But it’s Melvin. Melvin Grubb. I’m one of your biggest fans, I bet.”

Carla intervened smoothly: “It looks like we’re about to have a demonstation of you skills, Wonder. Maybe some sort of wager with the Colonel would up the ante a bit?”

“Carla––we havent agreed to anything yet! I’m not about to––this is ridiculous!” WW ‘s voice trembled a bit; clearly, things were getting out of hand.

“Just as I told you! this luscious lady is fraud! Face it. Wonder, you’re afraid to let this amateur tie you with a few clumsy ropes! I’m deeply disappointed. As is our audience, I suspect.” The Colonel was dripping phony charm; the crowd murmered approval, clearly on his side. Tie the bitch up!” someone yelled.

Carla was listening to her producer’s voice in her earphone: “Carla, Do it! Do it! Yes, we’ve got clearance––go for it!” She smiled at WW.

“ It seems we’ve got a real challenge to you reputation, Wonder. I know this may appear to be some sort of show business trick, but I assure you it is not! I’m curious, myself, since the colonel has called your bluff. Can this little scout tie you up–– or, as we say on the internet channels, put you in bondage––or not?” WW gulped and replied:

“Very well. I’ll do it. You’ll get your big chance, Melvin. But. Colonel Snively, if I am successful, I want you to pledge ten thousand dollars to Amnesty International to partially undo some of the suffering your trainees have caused in Central and South America.”

Snively bowed graciously. “Without admiting your slanderous charges, I agree. And you, in turn, must risk somthing. Fair enough? If Melvin, here, can tie you up so that you can’t escape in––let’s say five minutes––I’ll ask you to spend 72 hours as a guest at my center for attitude adjustment. What do you say?” He beamed benignly, only WW saw the cold glitter in his eyes.

Center of attitude adjustment; read torture chamber, she thought. But– my pride and reputation ae on the line, here. After all those TV shot of my––I’ve got to do it! She took a deep breath, stood, smiled down at Melvin, now rummaging in his back pack.

“Carla, Colonel ––of course I accept your challenge. Let’s give Melvin, here five minutes to tie me up, and give me five minutes to get loose and give the good Colonel 24 hours to send his check to Amnesty, OK?”

Carla could scarcely contain her elation. “Wonder Woman! What a gutsy call!~ Melvin, let’s begin!”

WW bent over the short scout, hand on his shoulder. “Well, Melvin––let’s go!”

He turned and said to Carla and the colonel. “I don’t think she should be wearing all that magic stuff, those cuffs, that belt. It isn’t fair.”

Carla looked at Snively. He shouted: “He’s right. by George! Let her prove her skills unaided by super equipment, if it exists, which I doubt!”

Carla made a quick calculation. Would WW accept this new qualification, or back out? Only one way to find out. “Wonder, That sounds reasonble to me, Why don’t you take off your––equipment? I think that would give Melvin a more level playing field, so to speak.” Another sweet smile.

Step by step, WW felt she was being led into some sort of

ignominious trap; at this point she saw no way out; she would not go back on her promise. Sighing, she unbuckled the heavy golden belt, took off the cuffs, and stood before Melvin once again. She tried to smile at him; it was hard. He had extracted several lenghths of rope from his backpack in the last minute or so. He leered up at her; his eyes were old. cunning, not boyish at all.

She stammered, attempting a light sliughtly seductive tone she did not feel: “Well do your worst, Melvin! I guess Wonder Woman is going to be your helpless victim!” She offered her crossed wrists in front of her., with a little curtsy.

Melvin grinned for the first time. “No way. Behind your back! Both wrists!”

She complied, reluctantly. He was behind her, quickly roping her wrists together, tight, very tight-and very professionally. Then he wired her thumbs together, substantially cutting down her escape options.

‘I’ve been set up! Snively! this little monster! Maybe even Carla!’ these thoughts raced through her head–– Consternation! Betrayal!–– even as Melvin bound her upper arms, pulling her elbows behind her back, agonizingly, tieing them almost together. With her shoulders back the strain on the flimsy costume ws too much; first one, then the other big nippled breast flopped free, jiggling for a moment. Whistles, more applause, an almost deafening roar; the audience was going wild.

Over the din, WW shouted at Carla: “Carla! This is some kind of set up! This scout is a ringer! Stop this right now!”

Carla heard her, but feigned deafness. In her own earpiece, her producer was screaming: Look at those knockers! Go for it! keep her on the air!

Snively reacted quickly as WW continued to complain. “Our prisoner is a bit noisy; perhaps she needs a gag, Melvin.”

The squat little scout nodded, grinned again, and took off his neckerchief, tied two knots in the center of it and forced it into WW’s mouth. Still shouting at Carla, she had been caught off guard; the dirty kerchief slipped behind her teeth before she realized what was happening. Melvin knotted the kerchief behind her neck: now she could mumble and slobber, but her cries of outrage would not be heard.

The crowd was still buzzing, excited. Here was a celebrity super herione, twisting and writhing her gorgeous breasts totally exposed, as the short boy scout continued his relentless bondage routine. He knotted several loops of heavier, harsher rope around her waist, cinched it tight--very tight. WW felt constricted, she could not take a deep breath–– He knotted it, and let the long end dangle between her legs ––for now.

He tied her thighs together above her knees, then her calves, and her ankles. All the ties were tight, profeassional; WW was immobilized. She tottered , not able to keep her balance, and not able to resist as Melvin, grasping and twisting her breasts wih his stubby fingers, forced her to her knees.

The audience had quieted, there was a hum of anticipation; gleeful whispers. An icon humbled, but also; some murmers of concern, of sympathy. “That little bastard is sure playing rough” one man muttered. On stage, Snively chortled, but tried to not show too much glee: this was all going just as he––and Melvin–– had planned.

Carla, with competing voices screaming in her earphone: ‘Sensational! and from the network chief, calling from home:’ this is porn! cut it right now!’ ‘ Don’t listen to that old fart! our ratings are way up! everyone’s watching!’ was strangely placid. This is sensational stuff, no matter how it turns out, she told herself, what next?

WW, now on her knees, was straining her neck trying to bite the gag, trying to be heard––all that came out were strangled bleats and muffled sobs. Melvin, now behind her, reached between her thighs, tugging and tearing the sheer crotch strap of her costume as he did so, and pulled the dangling hemp rope between her legs, parting her vulva, abrading her tender inner tissues, and then up, deep into the cleft between her buttocks, and looped over the stringent wrist ties.

At this point, he pushed her over onto her side, then her belly––her breasts broke her fall–– and tied the final knot, in a classic hog tie. Her ankles were now linked to the ropes bisecting her. The auditorium was almost silent now, except for the plaintive muffled screams and whimpers from the savagely bound woman. She flopped on the floor, tried to straighten her ankles, and moaned again as the harsh rope sawed at her labia and clitoris.

Carla, almost as mesmerized as the crowd by the efficiency and viciousness of Melvin’s bondage, finally spoke. “Uh––Your five minutes are up, Melvin. Uh––good job, I guess. Wow! I don’t want to mess around with the Boy Scouts! Don’t you come near me with your ropes! Wonder Woman. are you ready for your escape attempt?”

WW now writhing on her side, glared back at Carla; her gag didn’t quite muffle her anger and distress.

“I’ll take that as a yes. We’ll screen you off, so as not to give away your techniques, let you do your escape, and be right back in five minutes.” She smiled her bright patented smile once more.

Time for another commercial. During the break Carla was on the phone to her producer, frantic: “Shively pulled a fast one on us. That so called scout is a plant, a phony; I just know it! What’s the network’s position if we’re getting conned here! Millions of people are getting their rocks off on Wonder Woman naked-yes, naked! did you see that little bastard tug that rope throught her pussy?––and helpless. What do I do next?”

“Interview him, right now. If he’s phony, we want to be the ones to expose him; maybe apologise to Wonder, but, isn’t she a total turn on ?”

WW’s escape time was ticking away; she struggled behind the drawn curtains. The crowd was tense. Carla had called a reluctant Melvin to the interviewing couch. “Well, Melvin, this must be a special night for you!”

“Yeah, I always wanted to get a juicy woman like that, tie her up, other stuff; wish I had more than five minutes..”

Carla interrupted nervously. “Melvin. You seem a little older than the typical boy scout.” Up close she registered his dry skin, wrinkles around his lips, crows feet at the corners of his dull, but feral eyes. This was an old man; some kind of dwarf, some kind of a glandular case, maybe, but

not a boy scout!” She pressed on: ’Actually, up close, you look quite a bit older...”

“Yeah, well, it took me a while to recover from my open heart surgery, but I still wanted to be a scout ; Be prepared and all that. that’s why I always carry my ropes with me,”

Open heart surgery! An ‘AWWWW’ went up from the crowd. Conned! Snookered! Carla told herself. She just hoped that WW could free herself. On the other end of the couch, Sniveley maintained hie military erect posture; he wanted to double over with hoots of glee and triumph. No way she was going to escape! And then––and then.....

Behind the curtain, WW was struggling desperatlywith her bonds.With her thumbs wired toether, most of her usual moves were impossible. She twisted and strained, but her upper bpdy ropes were unforgiving. She had managed to flex her ankles to the small of her back, where her straining, groping fingers unknotted he hellish hogtie rope; she gasped with relief when the deep sawing pressure in her cunt was eased.

But still, her ankles and thighs were bound; she couldnt budge the ropes at her wrists. And time was passing. She looked around the stage, she was lying on a dirty wooden floor; in the wings of the set there might be somthing with a sharp edge, something to abrade the ropes...She flopped and wiggled to the edge of the stage. There were several rough steel brackets bracing one of the sets. She hoped they might be sharp enough! She hoisted herself painfully against one of the brackets and began sawing rhythmically against her wrist ties. She felt the fibers give just a bit, then a little more, One rope snapped, sawn through, but not the main wrist tie. Still, she had a chance now! She strained again, Yes, the ties were easing, One wrist was almost free! But her thumbs were still securely wired together. She was far from escape.

“Times up, Wonder. Let’s see how you are doing!” Carla’s cheerful voice, as the stagehand pulled back the curtain. The audience gasped.

She had staggered to her feet, leaning against the stage set, but her thighs, calves and ankles were still tightly bound. She was disheveled, tearful. The gag, now sodden with her saliva, was still firmly in place. She had managed to free her left hand just a bit but the tight elbow ropes allowed her very little freedom. The heavy knotted rope cinched tight round her waist dangled between her thighs, her dark fringed sex was swollen and tender from the hemp rope, pink-purple lips bulging behind the ropes; the remains of her flimsy costume were in tatters, she was essentilly naked. She had been sweating during her ordeal, her breasts and her erect nipples gleamed under the stage lighting. She tried to stand proud, defiant, but couldn’t manage it.

Snively hooted in triumph. “Melvin, my lad! You’ve done it! Look at your splendid naked trophy!” Melvin smiled, or leered, and trotted on his short legs to the tottering, helpless woman. He threw his arm around her waist, cradling her bottom, his other hand reaching up to her brest, as he slowly pivoted her lush imprisoned body, like a trophy. The crowd loved it. Wonder Woman’s sobs were hardly heard. She knew she had lost the contest, but the humiliation, the indignity of being groped and displayed by this little monster was almost intolerable.

Carla intervened. With the cheering Colonel and the phony scout now feeling up his squirming victim, the show, already raunchy, was getting out of control. She said,brightly:” Let’s poll the audience. Who won the bet? Wonder Woman?” There was silence. “Or Melvin, the scourge of super heroines?” the cheers and applause were almost unanimous.

Carla continued quickly. “Wonder, it looks like you lose this one. Melvin , pleas get your hands off her...Wonder, do you have a
statement? Oh, sorry, I forgot about that gag. Colonel, would you?”

Snively stood close, gloating as he untied the sodden kerchief. “You’re all mine now, my proud bitch.” he whispered in her ear.

Finally able to speak, Wonder swallowed, spit at the colonel and glared , twistiing her head towards Carla: She almost screamed: “You bastards! this was a setup! That shitty little midget, or dwarf, he’s no boy scout! Snively, I know you’re behind this!–– And Carla, you’ve been on my case all night! This whole contest was rigged! All bets are off!”

Carla was feeling a bit better now about the outcome of this obviously rigged event. She said smoothly: “Now, now Wonder Woman, no one likes a sore loser. Not a super herione, certainly. You may have to accept defeat gracefully.” Sweet smile.

WW howled with rage and futility:”Graceful, my ass! You pricks! You bastards! Get away from my ass, you little creep!” ––this addressed to Melvin, who now had his hand between her buttocks, one finger pushing against her anal sphincter, penetrating.

Carla, sweetly: “I’m sure your many fans are disappointed, as am I, at your attitude. I had expected a sense of sportmanship, a certain nobility in defeat. You are trying to renege on your bet. I note, however, that you are still thoroughly tied up, not in a very good position to curse and complain, or control the outcome. What do you have to say?”

“You phony cunt, I’m holding you responsible for this travesty! And all you lechers in the audience, staring at my tits and sore pussy...”

Any sympathy for this cursing, whining woman was rapidly waning. Snively stepped forward again; from somewhere he had produced a red rubber ball gag.

“I think we’ve heard quite enough of your foul mothed excuses, you loser! Let’s quiet you down!” He forced the big gag into her mouth, behind her teeth, her jaws distended; he buckled the gag tightly behind her neck. She was effectively mute again.

Carla was hurried now, the hour was almost over. The parrot owner, the man who made copies of the Mona Lisa out of match sticks, would have to wait for another night. This show, she knew, was one of a kind; whatever the network decided. “Folks, we have to end this! Should Wonder Woman lose her bet?” The audience was unanimous. ”Wonder, I’m afraid that you’re his client for the next 72 hours. Let’s have you both back next week to let us know what happened, Meanwhile, goodnight, all. Tne final saccharine smile. the show was over.

Off the air, Carla turned to Snively, furious: “You tricky piece of shit! You suckered me and the whole network. So we’re stuck with you and that creepy midget. Damage control. Get Wonder out of here right now, before the reporters, before thay start interviewing Melvin, OK. I mean, right now! I’m ready to sue, and I bet your victim will, too. And, we’ll look at the numbers; if they are a sensational as I expect, we will have you and Wonder back next week-- if she survives your tender attentions. But, no Melvin, and we’ll write the script. Deal?”

Snively nodded, smiling:”You are a tough cookie, Carla. I like that. You‘ve got a back elevator? I’ll have my luscious prize out of here in no time.”

Gagged, helpless, Wonder was still trying to balance on her trussed ankles ; Melvin now had one hand between her vaginal lips, the other two fingers well into her rectum. She writhed to no avail. the colonel surveyed her, triumphant, hand on hips. “Wonder Woman. I have looked forward to this day. My delicious slave--oh my, what a three day party we are going to have.” He knelt and cut her leg bondage, reached for the dangling hemp between her legs and tugged, like a leash. “Come along, my slave!”

Gagged, her upper ties still intact, Wonder could only submit as he towed her to the back elevator. Melvin had picked up her cuffs and magic bracelets; he trotted to catch up with her,his head only coming up to her waist line, he scuttled along side; his stubby fingers still violating the superherione as she stumbled along, head hanging, now openly weeping, her spirit virtually broken.

Her brain raced, skittered; dread over what might await her, her current pain and despair, the public humiliation––perhaps that was the worst––all so depressing that she tried to shut it all out. Stay with the here and now, she told herself, The here and now was the tug on her belly tie, like a leash, the tight wrist and elbow ties (Her hands now numb), the big gag distending her jaws painfully, and loathsome hands exploring her bottom, and she was starting to get wet, responding against her will, as they lurched to the Colonel’s Bentley; “This is just not my night.” she told herself, totally despairing.