The woman in the audience yawned. More than that, she looked downright sleepy.

Diana frowned from the podium where she gave the keynote address at the International Women's Empowerment Seminar. She hadn't thought her speech to be boring. Quite the opposite, it had tested well with Mari and Helena at League HQ, and neither of them was one to mince words.

But the bored/tired woman was the second one she'd noticed who couldn't seem to keep her eyes open. Or no, now there was a third, and a fourth. Was it her speech, Diana wondered, or was something else at play?

The clatter of a food tray striking the floor interrupted both Diana's speaking and her pondering. A young waitress had dropped the tray, as she herself fell down to the ground. Many of the other audience members and wait staff followed suit, collapsing onto their tables, out of their chairs, or where they stood.

Well, that answered that question: Nothing was wrong with her speech. But something far, far worse was happening.

Diana immediately sprung into action. But as she leapt from the stage, an overpowering dizziness enveloped her. She tumbled as she landed. Then she found that she couldn't get to her feet. Great Hera! What was happening?

Her eyes grew heavy, and she couldn't keep them from closing. And that was the last thing she remembered....

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Slowly, Diana opened her eyes.

The first thing she saw as the fog faded from her brain were toes: perfectly shaped, meticulously pedicured, with nails painted a striking crimson.

Why was she seeing toes? She shook off the last vestiges of grogginess and refocused her vision. The toes were hers, topping off her bare feet and outstretched legs.

She sat on something akin to an examination table, with her back against one raised end. Thick black bands encircled her wrists, waist, and ankles, securing them to the table. A low, barely perceivable, electric buzzing sounded from the restraints.

Diana quickly recognized that mythocronium bands held her in place. Materials made from the incredibly rare, ionically charged element could resist even the much vaunted strength of an Amazon. Still, she flexed her muscles in an attempt to break free. As expected, the attempt failed. But she wouldn't give up so easily.

She surveyed her surroundings. The small room she was in housed high-end electronics and computer consoles. On the wall directly across from her hung a large mirror. In it, she could see herself in her entirety, from head to bare soles.

Not only had her boots been taken from her, but so had her tiara, lasso, and bracelets. All that remained was her eagle-emblazoned, red-gold-and-blue costume. She thanked Hera for not having been stripped naked (it had happened before when captured by some pervert villain). But, not having her boots and magical items made her feel vulnerable, and would make escaping all the more difficult.

The other thing she saw in the mirror was a strange object just above her head. It reminded her of a salon hair dryer by way of a mad scientist's tinkering. Several LED lights and thin wires graced its otherwise smooth exterior. And it sat suspended on two jointed arms connected to the wall behind the examination table. She could tell that the arms were meant to raise or lower the device, so that it either covered, or uncovered her head.

She leaned her head back and stared up into the thing. Its dark interior revealed nothing else about it. All she could determine was that it looked vaguely like a large, toothless maw. That thought unnerved her. But being kidnapped and subjected to villainous traps and machinations was, sadly, all part of being a superheroine. She had survived everything thrown at her thus far, and she would survive this, as well.

Once more, she struggled against the restraints. Of course, they didn't yield. But she would keep trying.

"It's really no use, Diana. You can't escape. Not that I expect you to believe me, or to give up. But, it's the truth. You're here until I'm finished with you."

The voice came from a woman who had entered the room from behind the examination table. She walked around it to face Diana, revealing herself to be attractive, diminutive (as almost all women were compared to the Amazon), wearing a lab coat, and holding a clipboard and pen.

Diana didn't like the fact that she had been called by her given name, rather than by her heroine moniker. Few people in the world knew that name, and all of them were part of her blood or chosen families. Well, that wasn't entirely true. Lex knew her name, too. But as far as she could tell, he had never divulged it to another villain.

Looking around once more, she saw no "L's" anywhere within the room, nor on the woman's clothing. That pretty much ruled out her being a captive of Lex or his underlings. So, why did this woman know her name?

"Tell me," the woman said. "Do you know why you can't move?"

"You've somehow procured mythocronium," Diana said calmly. "Which you think can hold me. But it can't. Not for long."

"Mm-hm. Mythocronium," the woman said, making a notation on her clipboard. "Anything else you know? Where you are? What's happening?"

Not having the answers, Diana simply glared at her.

"No? Okay," the woman said with a nod, before making more notations. "Well, it looks like it's been a success. More tests are in order, of course, but so far, I'm impressed with the results."

"What results? What's been a success? What are you talking about?"

Diana tried to keep frustration out of her voice and calm authoritativeness in it. But she could tell that she didn't succeed.

"My explanation is going to be a bit indirect, so bear with me. First of all, we haven't secured any mythocronium because it doesn't exist. It's made up. And because it's made up, that means no ionically charged bands of it are holding you in place. They're really not. Nothing is. You're sitting there, unrestrained. You should be able to get up and move around as freely as I can."

Diana's eyes widened in disbelief. She stared down at the bands that were clearly around her wrists, waist, and ankles. She could feel them on her skin, and she could--just barely--hear them buzzing electrically.

"Whatever mind game you're playing, I'm not biting," she said to the woman.

"Oh, you're biting, all right," the woman said. "You've bitten, and you've latched on like a badger. Not that you can help it. Here, let me prove it to you..."

The woman snapped her fingers, then continued speaking:

"Mythocronium. Remember."

Diana blinked and shook her head. And then she remembered. Or rather, she didn't remember. She didn't remember ever hearing of mythocronium, not its name, nor its properties. It wasn't real. There was no all-encompassing super-material that could magically or scientifically restrain an Amazon.

"What in the name of Wise Athena?" she said in abject shock and confusion.

"Now you know," the woman said. "You're not restrained. So, go ahead, stand up. Escape. You should be able to."

But Diana couldn't. She still saw the restraints. They were there. And she knew they were stronger than her...even though they couldn't be because they didn't exist.

"I don't understand," she said desperately.

"There, there, it's all right. How could you understand? I haven't let you understand. But I'm going to soon. I just need to conduct a couple more tests."

The woman stepped forward to stand before Diana's feet. Then she gently stroked the sole of the heroine's left foot.

Diana immediately let out a howling guffaw, as she frantically shook her foot. The woman repeated the stroke, garnering the same response only more frenzied. More and more tickling ensued, until the Amazon was laughing so hard she could barely breathe, and tears streamed down her cheeks. Finally, the woman withdrew her hand and made a notation on her clipboard.

"Good, good. Left foot tickle response has been successfully implanted and is as severe as expected."

The woman reached out towards Diana's right sole, prompting a withering glare and a scrunching of that foot from the heroine.

"No! No, don't you dare! No-oh-ohh-ohhhhhhh..."

As the woman stroked her flesh, all tension left Diana. She sighed and moaned in pure ecstasy. The woman continued her actions, and Diana all but melted off the table.

"Very good. Right foot pleasure response has also been successfully implanted and is as intense as expected."

The woman withdrew her hand, stepped back, and made her notation. Diana immediately grew stern and angry again.

"What is going on? What have you done to me?"

"You've passed all my tests, so there's no reason I can't tell you now. Although, instead of telling, I think I'll show you."

The woman moved off to the side, then pointed her pen at the mirror and pressed a button. Diana saw her reflection shimmer and then be replaced by another image. This new image showed the same room with the examination table and Diana sitting on it. But now, the heroine was wide awake and wearing all of her gear.

And, she wore something else: a glowing, golden lasso wound several times around her midsection. Holding the other end of the magical rope was the woman in the lab coat. Carefully keeping a hand on the lasso, the woman slowly removed items from the heroine--tiara, bracelets, and finally boots. Now Diana looked the same as she did in the mirror.

Next, the woman moved the not-hair-dryer into place above Diana's head. And using the same pen she had just pointed at the mirror, she powered the strange device on. As Diana had surmised, it lowered down on its jointed arms to rest over her scalp. Then its lights began to pulse, both on its surface and from within it. The fluctuating shadows they created gave the illusion of a giant mouth sucking on her head. Watching it all play out before her, she shuddered.

Then she noticed Diana-on-the-screen begin to squirm and twitch. There was no sound, but she could see herself uttering something. Her fists clenched and unclenched. Her feet scrunched and splayed. She began to tremble. But after a short time, she started to relax. And soon, her head lulled beneath the machine. Her eyes drooped and finally closed.

"There's more," the woman said, changing the screen back to a mirror with another click of her pen/remote. "But you get the idea. I gassed you, trussed you up with your magic lasso, brought you here to my lab, and brainwashed you with that machine. Now, you'll do anything I've programmed you to do, with or without knowing it, based on what I want."

"No, it can't be," Diana said in disbelief.

"Of course it can be. It is. You just saw it. And you're experiencing it."

"No. It's some trick. Some elaborate hoax. I don't know how or why, but--"

The woman snapped.

"Stop talking."

Diana stopped in mid-sentence. Try as she might, she couldn't say anything.

"It's time to move on to the next phase. So, tell me, which heroines in your group do you find to be the most sexy?"

"I don't think of any of them in that way," Diana said indignantly. "We're all comrades-in-arms who--"

Snap.

"Stop talking. Now, answer my question."

"Mari, Helena, and most of all...Shayera," Diana heard herself say.

"Mari, Helena, and Shayera," the woman said in repetition, as she noted the responses on her clipboard. "With emphasis on Shayera."

"No! I didn't just say that! I mean, I did, but I didn't mean it," Diana said.

"Of course you meant it. You told me exactly what you meant. But, I can see that keeping you conscious is just going to drag this out. I don't need arguments and protests every time I ask you a question. Otherwise this will take all day. So, I better just put you under."

Snap.

"Hypno," the woman said.

Diana's eyes went wide, then glazed over, then drooped sleepily.

"I'm glad I implanted that trigger," the woman said. "And regarding your comrades, you have excellent taste, I have to say. Anyway, to business. I need you to bring each of them to me, one at a time. I don't care how you procure them, as long as you don't alert any of their fellow heroes or heroines to what's going on. Understood?"

"...Yes."

"And make sure they're incapacitated when you give them to me. I want them docile and ready for brainwashing without a fight. Understood?"

"...Yes."

"Let's make that, 'yes, Mistress,' hm?"

"...Yes...Mistress."

"Good girl, Diana. When I snap again, you will wake up feeling relaxed, refreshed, and content that all is well. You will have no memory of being captured or brainwashed, and once you are back outside, you will have no memory of me. But you will unerringly carry out all of my commands and follow all of your programming. You will also remain suggestible to what I and only I say, regardless of whether or not you are in a hypnotic trance. Got it?"

"...Yes...Mistress."

The woman snapped. Diana opened her eyes and smiled.

"Your gear is behind you, by the door," the woman said.

"Thanks. I'll gather it up and head out."

"Leave your boots. I like you barefoot. You look submissive, subservient, and very sexy."

"Oh, okay. I'll leave the boots then."

"And you might as well bring your comrades to me without their boots, too. I imagine they'll look quite sexy when they're barefoot."

"Yes, of course. No boots on the heroines when I bring them to you. And, yes, I think they do look quite sexy when they're barefoot."
  
With that, Diana retrieved her other belongings and headed out the door.

"See you soon," the woman said.

"Right, see you soon."

As she exited the building, Diana took a running leap into the air.

"Who will I see soon?" she wondered, as she soared skyward.

With a shrug and a contented grin, she decided that she neither knew, nor cared. What she did know was that, as soon as she got home, she was going to invite Shayera over for a visit. Maybe they would go get foot massages together. Oh, yes, wouldn't that be fun?