Opening day of the Metropolis Museum of Superheroines. A large crowd had gathered, in the main lobby, waiting for the ceremonies opening the museum. Most of the crowd, probably 70-80%, were women, dressed in their fine gowns and jewelry, to look their best for what they thought would be a crowning moment in the history of womankind.
“Should be a good haul.” Jones thought, mingling through the crowd. True, they weren’t the main targets, but the slaver’s guild was unlikely to say no to a couple dozen fine slaves anyway. The slaver was dressed, for the moment, in the staff uniform: black shirt, black pants, black shoes. There were plenty of them about, serving refreshments to the waiting guests, answering questions or directing them to restrooms. Aside from Jones and his two fellow slavers, who’d been introduced to the other staff as three recent, temp workers brought in for the grand opening, the rest of the staff were all young women, mainly history and civic majors from the local universities, all extremely pleased to be working at a new museum celebrating the achievement of female supers.
Walking through the lobby, Jones had to duck around a gaggle of pretty teens dressed up nice in matching plaid skirts, white socks and sweaters stitched with the crest of a private girl’s academy. They hurried past, talking and giggling to one another cheerily. It was hardly the first time he’d dodged such parties. It seemed half a dozen girl’s schools or academies had sent groups of students on field trips to witness the opening of the museum. Jones wondered if Mike and his people on the museum board had arranged that, or if it was just a happy accident. Either way, the school groups would add to their haul of pretty slaves.
“Speaking of Mike and coeds…” Jones thought. In the two days since he and the others had raided the Beta Lambda sorority, no one had yet raised the alarm about the disappearance of more than a dozen college girls. Most of the Beta Lambdas were currently caged up in the local Slaver’s Guild dungeon, starting the training process that would prepare them for their new lives as slaves.
The one exception was Megan Scarlet, the surprise Super heroine they’d discovered and, fortunately, managed to overcome. She’d been brought back to their base. After examining her costume and running it through the computer systems there, the slavers had discovered a couple blurry YouTube videos and forum postings which seemed to identify Miss Super as a new heroine, having been first spotted only a month ago foiling a convenience store robbery, operating under the caped identity: Sparkler.
Unfortunately for her, her heroic career was now cut short. Instead, she’d had the honor of being the first to test the wide array of bondage restraints and devices Mike and John, along with the hard working scientists of LexCorp had devised to subjugate the Guild’s new stock of Super Slaves. Save for a few tense moments when she was first awoken from her drugged stupor and started struggling in earnest, the devices had passed the test easily. Now it was time to grab some more heroines to put them on…
“Excuse me!” A woman called to Jones.
“Yes ma’am?” He said, putting on a face that suggested he was happy to help and definitely not sizing the striking dark haired woman with a press pass up for chains and a slave collar.
“What time will the museum open?” She asked.
“There will be some speeches when the guests of honor arrive, after which they will be given a private tour of the museum.” Jones told her. “Everyone else will be directed to one of our event rooms, where there will be a presentation given by the museum curator, after which the museum will open for the general public.”
“Even members of the press?” The reporter asked. She raised a hand to her brow, which glistened with perspiration. “God it’s hot in here. Did someone forget to turn the air conditioning on?”
“Yes, even the press Miss…Lane.” Jones read off the woman’s press badge. “The idea was to let the heroines have some privacy during their tour. As for the temperature, I’m sorry but there seems to be a problem with our HVAC system, first day jitters, you understand, and with all these people crowded in one place…” He raised his hands apologetically. In actuality, the increase in temperature was deliberate, to activate the special chemicals added to the paint on the museum walls, releasing Triple X-13 gas. Once activated, it would knock out Miss Lane and all the other mundane guests in seconds. The supers would take longer, but in the meantime, it would weaken them enough Jones and the other slavers could deal with them on even terms.
“Fine…” Lois replied, mentally marking this down for the article she was planning on writing for the Daily Planet on the museum opening. “And when do you think the guests of honor will arrive?”
Just as she said this, a loud murmur spread through the crowd, gasps and excited cheers, moving from the main entrance towards the back of the lobby. The heroines had arrived. “I believe they are arriving now, ma’am.” Jones told her. He craned his neck, peering over the heads of the rest of the crowd. Just barely, he could make out the new arrivals, moving through the crowd, surrounded by fawning museum staff, including the curator, Miss Lee. He quickly confirmed a head count. Eight heroines, all of their targets.
In the lead were the two kryptonians; Supergirl, in her usual costume; white top bearing the famed ‘S’ logo, red cape and short blue skirt, her long, blonde hair held back by a hairband. Beside her was Powergirl, a close match in looks, though taller and noticeably bustier, especially in her white leotard with the chest cut out to show her cleavage. Her blonde hair was cut short into a bob.
At they walked, the two were turning their heads this way and that, staring into the distance, intently. Scanning the museum and the environment with X-ray vision, to see if any villains were lurking in the area, hoping to spoil the heroine’s big day. There were none, costumed villains at least. Part of their deal with Luthor was to keep the Legion of Doom and its many villains away from here, causing trouble in other parts of the globe to distract the rest of the justice league while Jones and the others dealt with the heroines here.
In spite of himself, Jones felt a momentary tinge of fear as they swept their gaze past him. He knew the hidden entrances and storeroom, where the slavers’ gear was stashed were lined in lead and thus invisible to their sight, one of many secret alterations the slaver’s guild had been able to work into the final design of the museum as part of planning this operation. There was nothing for the kryptonians to see that would alert them to the trap. Still, he felt relieved when they finished their scanning of the place, sharing a satisfied nod. Supergirl turned and spoke cheerfully to the women behind her and Powergirl.
Behind the kryptonians came the Amazons. In the lead was Wonder Woman. She was in her iconic outfit, the gold “W’ splashed across her low cut red top, showing off her ample chest. This variation of her costume had a skirt, short enough to show off her long, athletic legs, spangled with white stars. Belted at her side was the fabled golden lasso. Perched on her head, above flowing black locks was her tiara, golden with a red star in the center.
Half a pace beside her was Wonder Girl, shorter and younger, but otherwise costumed like her older namesake. Following the two was a taller, older, blonde woman. Unlike the other amazons, Hippolyta, Queen of Themyscira, was dressed in a flowing white dress that looked inspired by Ancient Greece. Or one that had inspired the ancient Greeks, historians were still arguing that point. Jones, however, didn’t know or care. After today, the only thing the amazons would wear would be chains and slave collars.
Bringing up the back were three more women. On the right was a dark haired lady who seemed to have stepped off a Vegas show, dressed as a stage magician with top hat and fishnet stockings. Zatana’s magic tricks were no smoke and mirrors though, as Jones and the others had been warned. Opposite her on the left was a blonde wearing a similar outfit of a black leotard and fishnet stockings, with a dark blue jacket over her shoulders. Jones grinned, looking forward to getting a gag in Black Canary’s mouth. Finally, in the center was a younger woman with long brown locks, wearing a red dress, cut above the knee, blazoned with a golden lightning bolt and a white and gold cape: Mary Marvel.
The eight heroines made it to the front of the lobby, where a small stage had been set up for the opening ceremonies. As the curator got up, taking a microphone to launch into her speech, welcoming the heroines and droning about ‘inspiring women and girls everywhere’, Jones started to make his way, as stealthily as he could, to the side door that would eventually lead him to the secret compartment where his suit and the rest of the slavers’ gear was kept. In other parts of the room, Pete and John also started moving that way. Jones had almost made it, when there was a sudden flash of light that filled the room, eliciting cries of shock from everyone in attendance.
As Jones’ vision returned, he was surprised to see a clear sphere of some strange material hovering a few inches above the stage to the right of the heroines. Standing inside the sphere, which was large enough to contain all of them comfortably, were six more women. From their outlandish outfits, it was obvious they were super powered.
The first on the left was a short haired blonde, wearing a skin tight outfit vertically striped with a white center and red sides, white gloves and boots. Next to her was a dark haired girl dressed in a sleeveless white suit that was cut, not unlike Powergirl’s costume, with rectangular slits across her ample cleavage. Third was a dark haired girl in a purple costume. Beside her was another woman in a costume of red and white stripes, though hers was trimmed with black and she wore a face concealing mask that, nonetheless allowed her golden hair to stream across her slender shoulders. To the right was a girl with short, bobbed red hair in an outfit of blue and white, decorated with lightning bolts. Finally, the last of the strange arrivals was a short haired brunette in another vertically striped costume, this one orange on one side, dark purple on the opposite and white down the center.
For a second, Jones wondered if there was going to be a super powered brawl. Were the newcomers villainesses who hadn’t gotten Luther’s orders or just ignored them? Or perhaps they were heroines, who felt slighted at not being invited to this prestigious event and decided to gate crash it. Evidently, the same thoughts were going through the heads of the original heroines, as they began to shift into defensive poses, preparing to summon up their powers.
All except for Supergirl, however, who stepped forward, grinning, as the orb settled onto the stage. A second later, it vanished, leaving its occupants standing on the stage. They spoke some words to Supergirl, which the microphones did not pick up. She turned, excitedly, she spoke to her companions, who seemed to relax. Then, as if just now remembering the audience that was watching this whole display in confusion, the heroine turned and grabbed a microphone from the dumbstruck curator.
“umm…Ladies and gentlemen, I’d like to introduce my friends from the 30th century!” Supergirl announced in a cheerful voice. “Representatives of the Legion of Super Heroes; let me extend a welcome to Saturn Girl, Phantom Girl, Shrinking Violet, Princess Projectra, Lightning Lass and Triplicate Girl!” She waved her hand across the line of supers, as she introduced them in order.
“Thank you, Supergirl!” Saturn Girl said, evidently having her own microphone system, as she did not take the mic from Supergirl. “We have traveled here, to this day and this place, because this is a momentous occasion for all Superheroines!” Jones had a momentary panic, realizing this group was from the future. “And though our records of this period of our history are incomplete, they did signify this date as an important one in the history of the Justice League and Heroines in particular, which is why my companions and I have come through time to take part in these ceremonies.” As she said this, Jones relaxed, slightly, realizing they didn’t know about the trap and hadn’t come back in time to foil the plan.
Still, he knew, their arrival changed things. He turned, as the new heroines started their own speeches to the crowd and hurried to the door. John and Pete had the same idea. They arrived at the door not long after Jones. The three exchanged glances, evidently wanting to discuss things, but none said a word. At least two of the heroines had super hearing and, though distracted by the ceremonies, would likely pick up if the three of them started discussing the heroines’ capture and enslavement just on the other side of the wall from them.
It wasn’t until they had reached their starting room, carefully hidden at the back of a half filled storage room, and closed the lead lined walls, sealing themselves off from any super senses, the three could discuss their plans.
“What do we do now?” Jones asked, pulling off his staff uniform and grabbing his slaver suit.
“Can we do this with six extra heroines?” Pete added, getting into his own suit as well.
“We don’t have much choice.” John told the other two. “The temperature in the galleries just spiked over 90* triggering the release of the Triple X gas. Right now, they’re filling up with knockout gas and we can’t stop it. Once the heroines step through those doors, they’ll inhale some. After that, it’s just a matter of time before they start noticing the effects and call for help. If we don’t stop that, we’re gonna have Superman, Batman…the whole Justice League coming down on our asses. Do you think we can be far enough away to escape that bunch?”
“So we go ahead with the plan as is, then?” Pete replied.
John shrugged. “We’ve got extra supplies for securing captives, hell we stashed enough spares to ensure we’d have enough even if all the original batch broke down, so securing them won’t be an issue. As for taking down an extra six heroines…ones we have no intelligence on, regarding their powers, strengths, weaknesses…”
“We’ll have to assume they’re just as vulnerable to the gas.” Jones told him. “Otherwise we’ve got no chance at all. And once they’ve got a whiff of that Triple-X stuff, they should be as weak as any normal person. Besides, we’ve already seen the suits can deal with a super at her full strength. I don’t think we’ll have trouble taking down an extra six.” He couldn’t help but add a tone of pride to this announcement, given the role he’d played in bringing down said heroine.
Pete threw up his hands. “Fine. If it’s a choice between trying this and maybe ending up in prison, or crawling into the deepest hole we can find and spending the rest of our lives waiting for the supers to catch us…I say give it a try. Besides, six extra heroines just means six extra slaves and a bigger payday for all of us.” He and the other two grinned at the prospect. “We’ll have to be extra careful, though, there’s an extra six pairs of eyes waiting to spot us and it only takes one of them to raise the alarm and ruin everything.”
“Best to wait and see if they split up during the tour.” John said. “Speaking of which…” He pulled his suit’s hood over his head. From here, the slavers could tap into the museum’s security system, cameras, remote control locks, alarms... Right now, John was checking the cameras to see where the heroines were at the moment.
“They’re just coming through the doors now.” He told the other two. “A little behind schedule. All those extra speeches must have delayed them.”
“How does that affect the gas?” Jones asked.
“They’ll get a bit of a stronger initial dosage.” John told him. “The effects will be stronger, but they’ll hit harder. We won’t have as long before they start noticing something’s up.”
The slavers waited a few, tense minutes as the heroines moved down the main hallway, listening to Miss Lee discuss the museum’s displays. Jones watched via the security cameras as she led the group of heroines past display cases filled with old costumes of heroines in the past, gadgets confiscated from villains they had defeated and other memorabilia. He kept waiting, hoping one or two of the heroines to split off from the rest. Bunched up as they were, it would be impossible for the slavers to drop all fourteen before one of them got an alarm off.
Finally, as the group passed through the gallery dedicated to the Amazons of Themyscira, Wonder Woman and her companions lingered. From the camera, it seemed Hippolyta was telling them about one of the items on display.
“Let’s go!” Pete said, motioning for Jones to follow. They left their hiding spot via a hidden doorway. John guided the two through the side galleries and the many hidden pathways worked into the design of the museum, allowing them to avoid notice by the rest of the group as they hurried to the Amazonian display.
By the time they reached it, Wonder Woman had moved on to rejoin the other heroines, leaving her mother and sister engrossed in a display of Amazonian swords. By luck, or more crafty design on the part of the slavers, the displays had been arranged so anyone viewing them would have their backs to the side entrance the two slavers used to slip into the gallery.
As Jones and Pete crept up, Hippolyta raised a hand to her forehead. “Oooh…my head.” She said, in a quiet voice. “I wish they’d get the air conditioning working.” She seemed dizzy for a moment, as if about to pass out, but after a second recovered. Still, Jones and Pete grinned, noting the first onsets of the knockout gas.
“So, as I was saying, Hephaestus forged these blades for the Amazonian Royal Guard…” Hippolyta resumed her explanation to Wondergirl. Both continued to remain oblivious to the approaching slavers, trusting the super senses they did not yet realize had been dulled by the knockout gas coursing through their veins. In the stealth suits, the slaver’s footsteps were completely silent. It was only when they were right behind them did the women notice them, spotting their reflections in the glass case.
Hippolyta spun around, opening her mouth to raise a shout of alarm, only to have Pete spray another load of knockout gas directly into her face. She sputtered, the concentrated dose hitting her hard. She swooned, struggling to stay upright. Beside her, Wonder Girl spun around, eyes going wide with shock. A second later, she got a real shock as Jones’ hands shot forward, seizing the teen by her arms.
“Shockers.” He vocalized, activating the shock gloves in his suit. The heroine gave a brief cry as electricity ran through her body. After a brief spasm, she slumped down against the case, unconscious. Jones glanced over at Pete. “Let’s get these two somewhere more private.” Beneath their masks, both slavers were grinning. Two heroines down, only twelve more to go…
Jones bent down and grabbed Wonder Girl around her slender waist, and lifted her up. The unconscious teen slumped over his shoulder. Beside Jones, Pete had tossed the Amazonian Queen over one shoulder as casually as any of the countless MILFs he’d abducted over the years. Her Amazonian strength and powers meant nothing now…
Carrying their captives, the slavers returned to the secret door, closing it behind them. They hurried to one of the hidden storage rooms they’d planned to hold their captive, though truthfully, there was no rush. Neither of these two would be waking up anytime soon. Even back here, there was enough of the knockout gas to keep them under indefinitely, and John’s monitoring of the security cameras told the slavers their targets remained grouped up in the main gallery for the moment. The two could take their time securing their first catch of the day.
In the center of the room was a long table. Hippolyta and Wondergirl were both set, bent over, face down on the surface of the table, their skirt clad rear ends lifted up into the air. Wondergirl’s legs hung limply while Hippolyta’s were bent, not doing anything to support the unconscious heroine. Working quickly and methodically, they strapped their captives’ arms and legs together with bands of what looked and felt like heavy duty rubber to Jones, but which John and Mike had assured him was some sort of next gen synthetic material that was pliable when first applied but would quickly become harder than steel when allowed to set.
Grinning, Pete reached down and pulled up Hippolyta’s long, white skirt, bunching the fine, silken fabric around her waist until the amazon’s bottom was exposed, clad in only a thin, skimpy pair of panties. Wondergirl’s skirt was likewise hiked up, revealing her curvy ass and a blue, star spangled thong that matched her costume. The slavers grinned, playfully fondling their captive’s bottoms. The only downside in Jones’ mind was the two were unconscious, unaware yet of how their status had changed, from heroines to slaves. Still, they’d find out soon enough…
“Having fun guys?” John chimed in over the comms system. “Listen, two more heroines have split off from the main group and gone into a side gallery…err…two of the weird future girls.”
“Where?” Jones and Pete commed back.
“The Wayne Foundation Gotham exhibit.” John replied. “Take the secret passage through the Star Labs Metropolis exhibit. That will bring you behind them. Be careful, though, they’re not far off from the rest of the group. You’ll need to take them down quietly.”
“Got it.” Jones said as he and Pete reached the hidden entrance. Jones brought the security camera feed from the room up on his visor. Sure enough, the two heroines, he recognized them as the two Supergirl had introduced as Shrinking Violet and Princess Projecta. Both were engrossed with the displays on Batgirl, Batwoman, Huntress and other heroines that operated in and around Gotham City.
“Fascinating!” Princess Projecta said. She was holding something up to the display case, which seemed to be scanning the items inside of it. “Much of this information was lost…er…will be lost. This should help fill in some gaps in our historical records.” Beside her, Shrinking Violet nodded.
“Watch my back.” Jones told Pete, opening the hatch and slipping out, quietly as he could. The two slavers crept quietly up behind the two heroines. They didn’t seem as affected by the gas as the amazons had, though he noted Shrinking Violet was nodding slightly, seeming somewhat dazed by the drugs filling the air. As he got closer, Jones decided to take her down first. Again, their senses dulled and reaction times slowed in their present state, the heroines didn’t react until Jones was right on top of them.
Pulling his right hand back, Jones swung a wide haymaker at Shrinking Violet. She gaped, surprised by this unexpected attack, until the slaver’s first connected with her jaw. Her head snapped back and the young woman collapsed to the floor. Jones didn’t have time to make sure she was out, though, as Princess Projecta was starting to react to the sudden attack on her companion. The heroine stepped back, raising a hand. Jones tensed for a second, bracing himself for whatever powers she possessed to be unleashed, but after a moment, nothing happened. The shocked face on the heroine’s face said everything, in her current drugged state, she was unable to use her powers, whatever they were.
Jones grinned confidently for a moment, thinking she was helpless. Then he recalled she could still call for help from the other heroines nearby and they could summon help from the rest of the Justice League. She realized this to and started to back up, hoping to open some room between herself and the slavers, getting ready to scream for help. Jones didn’t let her do so. He charged after her, one hand grabbing for her chest, the other hand raised, moist with chloroform. He pulled sharply on Projecta’s costume. The thin fabric tore, exposing her busty chest, but at the same time, she was yanked forward far enough Jones was able to get a hand across her mouth and nose, cutting off the heroine’s startled cry for help before it escaped her lips.
The heroines gave a startled cry, smelling the drugs flooding her nostrils. She squirmed, trying to shake off the slaver’s hand, but before she could, Jones got his other arm around her torso. He held her fast, pinning her hot body against his as he drugged her all the way into unconsciousness. As she slumped in Jones’ grip, he turned his attention back to the first heroine. While Jones had been busy with Projecta, Pete had finished dealing with Shrinking Violet. She hadn’t had a chance to even get up from the floor before the veteran slaver was on her, chloroforming her into unconsciousness.
“Let’s get them out of here before someone else comes along.” Jones told Pete. As before, the two slavers lifted their prizes over their shoulders, carrying the defeated heroines through the secret door and back to the storage room where the first two captives were, still fast asleep. As Shrinking Violet and Princess Projecta joined them slumped over the table, Jones noticed John leaned against the table, fiddling with something in his hands.
“What’s that you’ve got there?” Jones asked him.
“This is one of those Justice League communicators.” John replied, holding it up so Jones could see. John had gotten a panel off, exposing a complex network of computer chips and wiring. “I think if I do some quick rewiring I can turn this little baby from a communicator into a makeshift jammer. That should make taking the rest of the heroines down a lot easier.” He resumed working on the innards of the device.
Jones, meanwhile, returned his attention to the table and the four heroines on it. He helped Pete finishing strapping the two new arrivals arms and legs the same at the first two. When they had finished, the two resumed playing with the unconscious heroines. Jones rolled Princess Projecta onto her back, so he could paw at her bared breasts, squeezing and kneading the soft orbs, pinching her perky nipples, knowing she wouldn’t feel anything now, but when she came to she’d feel the torment in her breasts. Though by then, that would be the least of her troubles…
“Got it!” John announced triumphantly, a few minutes later. He held up the device. “Don’t know how long the rewiring will hold, though. I’d guess we’ll have twenty-maybe thirty minutes.”
“Then we’d best not dawdle around…” Jones told him. “If the rest of these super bitches have got as much of the gas as these four…” he gestured to their unconscious captives. “They’ll be easy pickings. Let’s just go out there and take them down.” After a moment’s thought, the other two nodded. Giving the unconscious heroine’s breasts one last squeeze for luck, Jones turned to the secret tunnel. “Don’t worry ladies. The rest of your friends will be joining you shortly…”