Wonder Woman's Loving Authority 05

Catalina heard her and yet she didn't. Was she saying friendly things? Something about sex being okay? Catalina murmured something incoherent. Sex was dirty and shameful and she did it because she, too, was dirty and shameful. She was a bitch and fucking, being fucked, at least let her enjoy it. She did enjoy it, right? The fucking of her asshole and pussy, still lingering in her flaring flesh, left her dizzy and uncertain about everything.

"Unshackle her," Diana said.

Catalina felt hands undoing her manacles. She was rolled onto her back and Diana herself offered her a drink, one arm being Catalina's back propping her up so the tall glass could touch her lips. The cool water seemed to travel much deeper than her belly, infusing her overheated flesh with a chilled calm. Her weakened body was revived somewhat, even if there was a hateful, sexual stimulation when some of the water dripped onto her sensitive breasts.

"Ohhh," Catalina moaned, feeling Diana tenderly wipe the water away from her aching tits with her sleeve.

"Does that feel good to you?" Diana asked.

"So—gentle."

"Yes. Gentleness can be good, can it not? All the roughness, all the vehemence—it can be done with love. And then afterwards, that love can be expressed directly. You don't have to be ashamed of it, run from it. And you don't have to seek poor substitutes for it, trying to force others to love you. Do you want me to love you, Catalina? Just for who you are?"

"I want... I want... yes."

Diana touched her clit softly. Despite how sensitive it was, the feeling wasn't intense or shocking. There was a light flutter of pleasure that went through her cunt, a mild electricity radiating into her.

"More—"

"Not yet," Diana whispered. "Not yet..."

Her aches and pains subsided, swallowed up by this pure, simple pleasure that was taking over. Diana's feather-light touch progressed over her sex, splayed fingers as light as a pickpocket's, not entering, just rubbing, rubbing, rubbing—the desperate need to come was gone, replaced by an abstract willingness to be touched, kissed, fondled, to go on this journey Diana was delivering her to. Her mouth fell open, her lips parting with a trifling tingle in them as she exhaled a soft, harmless word of encouragement: "Please."

"Almost, dear," Diana said soothingly. "Let it happen. Just allow yourself to feel. Yes. Yes. Give into me. Let it in."

"Diana!" Catalina sobbed as she came finally, no pain or force to it, just a blissful release that soothed and comforted her entire body. She slumped down over Diana's arm, utterly spent. She hadn't known—there was no way she could've known—

"That will be enough for now," Diana announced, after taking a few minutes to massage Catalina's body nearly comatose with caresses and brushing strokes through her hair. "She may not understand yet, but she's beginning to learn. Tomorrow's another day. Take her to the dormitory."

Thoroughly confused, terribly weak, Catalina was helped to her feet and led away. The dormitory was only a short walk from the discipline room. It had to be, given the condition those who were disciplined usually left it in. In semi-darkness, she was guided to her cot, tucked in like a little girl. Her clothes had still not been returned.

"Are you okay?" a voice came from the darkness.

"I'm fine!" Catalina hissed, though her voice was tiny, a whisper in the dark.

Down the corridor, female voices could be heard moaning in lust, self-induced or shared. Cooing and groaning. Not every Amazon or prospective Amazon was a lesbian, but every sister tried it at least once. It was almost like a sorority hazing.

The other woman laughed knowingly. "That used to be you, huh?"

"Like you didn't take it!" Catalina cursed. "I bet you loved it, too!"

"Of course. Didn't you?"

"I... I..." She had, but it'd felt frustratingly incomplete at the same time. She'd fucked often enough, to get out of a bad situation, settle a debt, whatever, it was her body, why shouldn't she use it? But those had been crude compared to the exquisite pleasure she'd felt with the Birds of Prey. And yet it could've been ever better, if only she'd been able to stop fighting it, to submit. It'd been like that with Dick, before Blockbuster—there'd been a niceness she couldn't put her finger on. And the last time, with Diana, when she'd been allowed to give herself over to Diana... it hadn't been intense like she preferred, but it had gone down sweet. And then having Diana caress her, comfort her—it kept the memory from souring. She'd enjoyed it. She wanted it. She didn't know how she felt about that, but she didn't feel ashamed.

"Yes," Catalina said. "Maybe I shouldn't have."

She heard the other mattress groan, the other woman shifting under the sheets. "So what'd you do to end up here?"

Catalina opened her mouth. The thought struck her that she should say it. Admit it, because here there'd be no judgment. Because Diana would be proud of her. Because she had done it, and the least she could do was cop to it.

"There was a boy," she said at last. "And some things happened and he was... distraught. I tried to comfort him, I thought I could make it—" Better. No. No, Diana would hate that, hate excuses. This was the truth, not a negotiation. "I thought he would leave me. I wanted to make him stay. We had sex. I took advantage of him. I raped him. And that's why I'm here."

"Thank you for admitting that," the voice came. "That can't have been easy."

"I disgust you, don't I? Doing a thing like that. You think they should just kill me like Max Lord."

"We've all done bad things, at one time or another. I'm trying to learn to let go of that. My sister—she did horrible things to me. But she changed. If I had held the past against her, I would've deprived myself of the person she became."

"I don't think I'm going to become a person like that. I'm gonna stay just what I am—nothing."

"Isn't that a waste?"

"A waste of what?"

"Love. You're Catalina Flores, right? You were a superhero once. You worked with Batman."

"That was a long time ago."

"You must've done some good. You can do more. Be someone worthy of love. Everyone here loves you and wants you to be that person. A hero. An Amazon."

Catalina shook her head. "They just want to punish me."

"So they can forgive you. So when the bruises have faded, there's no more debt to pay. If that day weren't coming, they'd just kill you and be done with it. But you can redeem yourself."

"And if I redeemed myself, if I got a cat out of a tree—you'd love me? Knowing what I've done?"

"It would be hard. But anger should be saved for the enemy. It does no good among friends."

"Prove it, then. Sit with me on the bed. Let me know that you're close. That you care."

The other woman came out of the darkness, tall and lovely and powerful, everything an Amazon should be. The bunk was too low for them to sit comfortably, legs too long not to drool across the floor, so they laid side by side, squeezed together tight on the narrow pallet. The woman's body dwarfed Catalina's with its warmth.

"It's over for tonight," the woman said. "Rest now. Nothing else will happen. In the morning, you'll begin to make restitution. But for now, you can sleep."

Catalina felt an invitation in the air, and she squirmed in to narrow the already tight gap. The woman embraced her and Catalina relaxed into the grip, shocked that the woman could bear to touch her after what she'd confessed.

"Do you know what this reminds me of?" Catalina asked. "When I was a little girl and afraid of the dark, I'd sometimes get into bed with my big sister—especially on nights when Papa was away and Momma was working the night shift. I'd squeeze up close and she'd hold me and kiss me and tell me there was nothing to worry about, just like you have. You feel like her too. Especially your breasts. They're so full—soft—like a pillow. What's your name?"

"Kory. Kory Anders."

She kissed Catalina on the cheek and in a moment she was asleep, snoring as softly as a child. And Kory lay in the darkness, shivering despite her warmth, wondering if she could truly forgive Catalina for all she'd done. This didn't feel like the woman she'd built up in her mind—the woman who had assaulted Dick, who had driven him into grief that had taken so many of them to lift him from. That woman Kory had hated; she'd been unwilling to even look at Tarantula, fearful that the sight of the rapist would drive Kory into a killing rage to avenge her lover. And even the likely prison sentence would not deter her, if she hadn't known that such a slaughter would also cost her Dick, cost her Donna.

Kory didn't feel that way about this woman—pained, humiliated, remorseful. She'd admitted her wrong and Kory valued that honesty far more than platitudes or expressions of self-serving regret. And she wanted to change; certainly, she had no reason to stay the way she'd been. If she could be made a happy, completed Amazon, wasn't that even better for the world than a dead rapist?

Kory didn't know. Her sister had never fully shed the ambition that'd driven her to such evil, and she could not tell if Catalina could be rid of the violence that had infected even her so-called love. But if she could—if she wanted to—Kory would try to forgive her.

It was the Amazon Way.