This story contains bondage, damsel-in-distress, and other sexual themes. I recommend you turn away if that does not interest you.

*****

Though it felt slightly embarrassing to wear an outfit as colorful and frilly as this, Quinn was willing to do whatever it took to accomplish her mission.

She’d been tracking the numerous disappearances in Demacia for quite a while now, slowly pinning down suspects and motives in a manner that had garnered her a decent amount of information. The ranger was certain an underground slavery ring had begun operations in her home, mostly snatching up helpless young ladies and selling them at quite the profit to corrupted nobles and other nations. It was something that the woman could not stand for, something that she was sworn to protect against, and something she would deal with.

Because of the research that Quinn undertook, she knew that the “Demacia’s Valentines” event taking place in a secluded corner of the region was nothing more than a front for the slavers’ business. Beneath the romantic partying and interacting, all sorts of damsels would be transported--perhaps kidnapped at this very event. It certainly wasn’t a coincidence that all of the individuals she’d specifically been tracking were attending this little get-together. The efforts of her spying assured Quinn that she’d be able to pull this organization out by its roots if she succeeded tonight.

As the moon rose into the sky, Quinn arrived at the event in her unassuming disguise. Her dyed light purple hair, combed and formed into a small ponytail should be unrecognizable to anyone who knew of her, given that she normally hid herself underneath a helmet. The make-up applied to her face helped her facial disguise further, and anyone who knew of the woman’s pride would certainly not expect her to wear such an outfit. Neither the low-cut top with a corset that squeezed her stomach into an hourglass figure, or the purple tights that hugged each inch of her legs perfectly in its silken embrace, would be what anyone would expect to find her in. Regardless, it was customary for these types of events, so it was something she had to deal with to not appear very out of place. If she could choose a less embarrassing disguise, then she’d take it in a heartbeat.

Eyes turned to Quinn as she opened the door to the hall, though none seemed to recognize her. Or, at the very least, make it obvious that they did. She began her investigation by simply sipping on a glass of champagne that was handed to her, though her eyes were hard at work at uncovering the truth of this event. It’d been decorated with all sorts of festive accessories: hearts, red and white balloons, candle lighting to set the “mood” for the attendees. What Quinn looked for beyond that were doors hidden away underneath all those distractions, conversations that looked more serious--perhaps a business deal rather than the flirting you’d expect at such an event. For now, she simply made small talk with audacious men and continued sipping her drink, working the night slowly. Her eyes constantly darted towards the front window, waiting for him to show up-

The blue bird descended from the sky, finally coming into Quinn’s view. She’d told the eagle, Valor, to return once he spotted something suspicious, and the fact that he was perched on a railing just outside of the building was a sure sign of that. Quinn excused herself from a conversation with one of the men, claiming she just needed a bit of fresh air before stepping away.

She obviously had more important things than wasting her time with these men. As she stepped outside, Valor took to the air, flying towards a neighboring building: a run-down warehouse with barricaded windows and an eerie feel to it. The bird ensured that Quinn was following closely, eventually leading her to a backdoor that was shockingly unlocked. That should be a sure indication that something was going on in here.

Quinn pushed the door open with her body, the heaviness of the iron door requiring a sizable effort to even push open. Valor flew in above her, scouting the area ahead as Quinn quietly followed, trying to suppress the clicks of her heels against the concrete floor.

A caw from Valor was the least concerning of the noises Quinn began to hear. High-pitched yet muffled groans and moans joined the bird’s call, those ones certainly of a human. Multiple, she soon realized, as they began to mumble in unison. Her step became a little hastened as she walked into the main area, rows of emptied boxes and supplies making the area something of a maze. There was a single lightbulb still running, hanging in the middle of the room, and with the sounds growing louder as Quinn walked towards it, she continued on that path.

Underneath where the lightbulb shone brightest laid a set of struggling, helpless bodies. Bags were tied over their heads, obscuring their vision and face, with some sort of gag to completely suppress their moans certainly underneath. Chain links ran from a hook on the ground to the front of their metal collars, tethering them to the cold floor. Even if the leashes were unlockable without a key, they’d find little success with how rope bound their limbs together, tape covering their hands and fingers also, to prevent any sort of meticulous escape efforts aside from uselessly wiggling around. The three bodies toiled and turned like this, in varying degrees of clothing, wondering if the steps before them came from a savior or a slaver.

Quinn immediately began to unbind the ladies, working on untying the sacks around their heads first. She surmised that the slavers were back in the event hall, likely scoping out their next victim, and so long as Valor watched her from above-

A swoosh permeated through the air, and was quickly followed by a squeal that was unmistakably Valor’s. Her eyes turned above only to watch Valor falling down, caught in some kind of projectile net. His fall was luckily caught by a stray box, and as much as Quinn wanted to immediately tend to the bird-

She barely dodged out of the way of a much larger net that was shot towards her, rolling to the side in the narrow passageway. Her body pressed against a stack of boxes, nearly knocking them over as her eyes turned towards the source of the sudden attack. A man, largely concealed by the dim light of the warehouse, held the net-gun in his hands. She immediately responded to it by pulling her crossbow out, sending two precisely aimed shots towards the man. The shots pierced through points on his shoulder and stomach--not aimed at vital locations but enough to knock him down for the count. For this mission, a live capture of the slavers was preferable for evidence, but if she had to…

“G-GET HER!” The shot man cried out, his voice heightened by the agony. The footsteps from behind Quinn had nearly been concealed by the frightened sounds of the enslaved. She turned around at the last second, another slaver’s hands already upon her. He aimed for her weapon, pushing the bow upwards so that any arrows shot would uselessly shoot into the ceiling. The momentary wrestling for the crossbow was enough to knock it out of Quinn’s hands with a forceful pull, her crossbow sliding across the ground with a screech against the stone floor, far away from both of them. She finally raised her leg up in a swift kick towards the crotch, stunning the man before she used the same heel to punt him in his stomach, taking the wind out of him and knocking him towards the ground. Her eyes and hands turned towards her bow-

“Easy there, lass.” The readying click of a gun was unmistakable to Quinn’s ears, but the following hum of magic was unmistakable. She’d been on missions to Piltover before, and knew that their hextech weapons were not something you wanted to take the brunt of. Her eyes turned back towards where the man with the net gun had been, seeing that another slaver was standing over him, the pistol pointed squarely at Quinn’s chest.

“We don’t want anyone to get hurt. Not more than you’ve already done to us. So if you care about that pretty little body of yours, you’ll place your hands behind your back and obey our every command.”

Her head turned behind her once more, seeing that yet another slaver approached. How did they have so many on standby? Four guards should certainly be overkill for a bunch of hidden, helpless ladies. Regardless, just like the gun, the cuffs this one carried glowed with the blue, energetic hue of hextech. It would certainly be much stricter than the ropes and tape that bound these captives. There was no way Quinn wanted to get those slapped onto her wrists, but right now she had to choose between that and a hole through her stomach…

She brought her gloved arms behind her back, bringing a smile out of the pistol-wielder who still held the weapon’s aim directly on her. Cautiously, the cuff holder began to approach, both of the slavers slowly closing the distance between them and Quinn.

“Quinn… the legendary “Wings” of Demacia… you’re pretty good at scouting, but less so at making it inconspicuous.” There was a slight expression of surprise that sneaked onto Quinn’s face before she tried to it with her regular stoic attitude, not giving the men the satisfaction of a word.

“Nothing to say?” He continued. “I suppose that’s one way to react to complete and utter humiliation. You walked right into this little trap of our’s… or flew, I suppose.”

As much as she wanted to turn onto either of the men, so long as the pistol was aimed straight at her there was nothing she could do. She felt the cuffs tighten around her wrists, clicking and whirring as some kind of technology secured them. A band of pure energy slowly shortened between the two cuffs, pulling her arms together until they entirely touched each other. Confident that the ranger had finally given up, the pistol-wielding man finally brought down his weapon, about ready to make another taunting remark as he approached Quinn-

That was an obvious mistake. Quinn’s foot shot up suddenly, her kick aimed directly at the hand of his that held the pistol. A holler of pain escaped his lips as the weapon was knocked away from his grip, just like the woman’s bow had been, leaving all three of them disarmed.

But that didn’t mean Quinn was helpless. She brought her leg back down, only to use it to leap towards the man she’d just kicked, her acrobatic talents giving her a surprising amount of air, Quinn landed on the man’s chest, digging her heels into him before jumping off of him, the sudden momentum shift knocking his head straight to the ground while Quinn traveled backwards. Stunned by the swift motions, the other man didn’t react as she flipped midway through the air, slowing down only right above him and…

She landed on his shoulders, and her legs immediately wrapped around his neck. It served as both a sturdy hold and a subduing move, keeping Quinn in this position even as he clawed and struggled as the lack of air slowly took its toll on him. He soon tumbled to the ground, his hands only succeeding in ripping her purple stockings, not able to loosen the grip of her legs around his airway. His struggles slowly subsided, and he was left, at the very least, unconscious.

When Quinn was certain that this one was down, she pulled herself free from his body, before awkwardly bringing herself to a stand. She ensured that the rest of the men who she’d taken down were done for good as well, with more sudden kicks to their heads to confirm it. If she was being honest, they were pretty weak, likely relying far too much on their tech to capture and enslave their prey.

With that in mind, the skirmish didn’t come without a cost. The advanced cuffs around her wrists and their metallic grip still easily held true. Quinn could tell that no amount of strength alone could break their tight embrace. Surely the man who had used them on her had the key, so she decided to awkwardly fish around in his pockets for some type of device that looked… key-like. Once she’d freed herself from this, she’d be able to use her bow again, free Valor and these ladies, and be able to call it a-

The sound of the back door creaking, voices, and footsteps alongside it put a stop to her search for the key. More slavers? This was bad. Her hands were still restrained, and if they were anything but unarmed then she’d be in a very bad predicament.

“Did you get her, boys?” The groaning of the barely conscious men was enough for the new arrivals to be certain that they didn’t. Her hurried, heeled steps along the pavement was confirmation. Quinn heard them break out into a sprint, running the many turns and twists of the unorderly stacked boxes to find their way to the woman. She began to run as well, though not without a strong feeling of guilt for leaving Valor behind. If she could just find help, either to get these cuffs off and her bow back, or someone else… she could’ve sworn she saw the heir of House Laurent at the party, though it was hard to believe someone like her would wear that frilly dress.

She looked down at herself with an ironic realization. There were bigger problems than that, anyways. Quinn ran away from their footsteps, desperately trying to find some sort of exit. If the backdoor she’d entered in was over there… then if she just went here, and here…

There it was! She’d just have to awkwardly position her bound hands to be able to twist and turn the doorkno-

It was locked. And, as the footsteps grew louder, Quinn realized that she’d made herself a cornered prey.

The men arrived, pistols of both the regular and technological variety in their hands. Another four men in total, these ones obviously much more cautious with how they treated the lone ranger. Weapons pointed straight at the unarmed and half-bound lady, they barked commands at her from a distance. A warning shot whizzed just over her shoulder, the shot of pure energy denting the sturdy metal of the warehouse. She barely held her startle in.

“Just bring yourself down to the ground, ranger. Nice and easy.” Listening to them certainly isn’t what she wanted to do, but with the distance between them and the weapons pointed at her…

Quinn brought herself down, one knee at a time, eyes on the pistols pointed at her. With her hands already cuffed behind her back, one of the men approached slowly as he held a coil of rope in one hand. Even if she took down this one, the rest would surely rain fire upon her...

The man holstered his gun finally, placing his trust in both his men and Quinn’s submission. Bringing the coil of rope into both hands, he pushed Quinn’s chest to the ground roughly, forcing a grunt out of her mouth as her body collided with the firm stone. She glared at the men who still cautiously threatened her with their weapons, waiting for the coil of rope to loop entirely around the woman’s ankles. She felt the rope tighten against her stocking-clad legs, its rough, uncomfortable bite digging in through the thin fabric. As the knot was tied she inquisitively tested her bonds, her initial pulls and struggles unable to loosen it in the slightest.

They finally lowered their guns, exactly what Quinn was waiting for but… now what? Her odds of beating four men with weapons seemed very slim, yet being bound like this came with the realization that her chances were even slimmer now. Her limbs were all rendered useless, and her bow and Valor were far out of reach, so what could she do against the four pairs of hands that quickly descended on her?

Her ponytail was sharply pulled back, eliciting a sudden groan of pain from the rough yank. The openness of her mouth was immediately taken advantage of, one of the men shoving a pink ball between her teeth. She moaned in anger as the leather straps were pulled around her cheeks, and as her voice was silenced, they began to use theirs.

“Was it overconfidence or just plain stupidity that brought you this far? Caging yourself in an enclosed space, making it so easy for us to snatch up you and your little bird… “ The man taunted, as his hand gripped around Quinn’s chin, forcing her to look up at him. Her eyes shifted away in shame, though she still shook and struggled in frustration, her remarks of opposition reduced to a garbled mess.

“MMphf hMMPH!” The meaning of the words was lost entirely on the men, but the anger was clear. Chuckles were shared between them as they continued prepping their newest slave.

They’d seemed to have prepared fitting bindings for the ranger, the first of which being the bright pink ball gag that matched the color scheme of her outfit. Red ropes began to encircle her body, the coil on her ankles matched by a pair above and below her knees, further reducing her leg mobility. She was pulled up from the ground for a moment, the position aiding in the formation of a restrictive web of ropes around her chest. They ran above and below her chest, looping around her shoulders and connecting to a set of ropes at her elbows. It pinned her already secured arms to her back, making it so that she couldn’t even swing her bound limbs around in resistance.

Information about the rest of her bindings was reduced to nothing more than feel as a leather blindfold slid over her face. She hadn’t the slightest clue of what color it could be, given as her world became shrouded entirely in blackness. From the men’s point of view, it matched up perfectly with the rosy shade of red that’d flared up on her cheeks, likely from humiliation at her subjugation.

The slavers’ true mission was a success. Capture the Wings of Demacia, and sell her off to Noxus for a hefty price. That was all there was supposed to be to it, but many of the men had never seen Quinn dressed up like this, much of her body hidden underneath that armor of hers…

“MMPHF!” A groan of anger pierced through Quinn’s gag as she felt a pair of hands descend on her chest. They squeezed and groped her modest breasts over the fabric that covered them, likely enjoying the displays of resistance that the ranger put up against the assault. They began to push the clothing downward, just enough so that a hand could slide underneath and reveal her chest to the cool air, her hardened pink buds a perfect addition to the outfit. Pinches and rubs over her nipples sent guilty streaks of pleasure and pain through Quinn’s body. She threw herself against her bonds, resistant towards this complete and utter degradation of her body. It seemed to only encourage more of them to join in, hands running through her soft hair to rub and tug at it, along every inch and curve that the woman had to offer.

“We’ll keep her here until the sun sets, like the rest of them. Until then, we’ve got a lot of time to kill, so...”

Though Quinn couldn’t see it, every set of eyes gazed upon her body, their minds imagining just what they would do to her in the coming hours. She simply hoped that the perverted thoughts running through their minds weren’t worse than what Quinn imagined they would do to her.

*****

...hhmpf? The ranger awoke with the clanking of the cell door, and her eyes opened from beneath her blindfold to the constant nothingness of blackness. It was the first time she’d been able to rest since her subjugation, her body toyed with for hours on end as they transported her while her mind was unable to rest due to the many distractions both in her head and on herself. The rough grip of rope still bound her body, her limbs growing sore at the constant discomfort they brought, and a steady stream of drool had created a river from her mouth to her chest, where it eventually dried in the dirtied fabric of her dress. Her efforts at stopping this, or even stretching her jaw to relax it in the slightest were entirely stopped by the secure gag, still reducing her moans and grunts to nothing more than whimpers.

Even the hextech cuffs still secured her wrists. The only sense that was still unobstructed was her ears, and they told her of the footsteps that rapidly approached her. She shook her body around against the cold, stone floor she’d been laid on, still coming to from the sleep she’d fallen into. The steps stopped in front of her, and by the rustling of clothes, she could tell that whoever had come to visit her was now kneeling in front of her. Quinn reflexively flinched as the hand ran along her leg, surprised by its gentle, almost affectionate touch, but the way his fingers wrapped around the curvature of her leg discomforted the bound woman.

“You really did a number on me, little lass.” The taunt was aggravating, but she was more concerned with the voice. It was familiar, but her memory was hazy after the long, restless day she’d just endured. Was it..?

No, she was certain it was one of the men she’d first fought. The one who pointed the pistol squarely at her head, threatening to blow her to the next life unless she complied. If she could speak, she’d tell him off about how he was the only person he had to blame for getting a face full of the ranger’s heeled foot. With the gag though, it only came out as somewhat subdued grunts.

“Though you can’t see it, you roughed me up pretty good. I’ll give you credit for that, but not forgiveness. I’d like for you to… remedy my pain, a little. Heal me up a bit, support me, instead of fighting me.”

His fingers slid up her legs, now rubbing and squeezing her plentiful thighs. She squirmed against his touch, but as exhausted and bound as she was, they were little more than weak struggles that did nothing to protect herself. The invasive touch continued to bring itself upon her legs, sometimes slipping underneath the tears and openings her tights had thanks to the close, physical battle she’d been in. They’d rub and torment her just a little, snaking around against her soft skin for tormentous seconds before slithering back out.

But that was hardly the most intimate of things that he had planned. His hands continued their journey up Quinn’s body, finding their way to her soft, squishy bottom, simply poking her curves in a manner that elicited grunts from the bound woman. He soon rested a hand, his palm pressing down as his fingers dug into her cheeks, roughly squeezing and pinching as Quinn began to shake and struggle.

“All that work… all that exercise... developed your body quite nicely.” He whispered.

“Especially your legs. Round in the right places, well-toned… all very nice when they’re not kicking you, right?”

Her legs thrashed in response, but the bindings protected the man this time, subduing them to nothing more than wiggles. While he left one hand to play with the woman’s bottom, his free hand continued to run along her legs, pressing more firmly against every curve. His head descended, pursed lips ready to plant kisses along her body. The blatant degradation of her body forced more resistance out of the ranger, but she was beginning to realize that all it really achieved was encouraging the man further. He continued to indulge in his obsession, his kisses becoming quicker and more hasted, his touch becoming more forceful and invasive! The man seemed entirely intent on playing with every inch of Quinn’s legs, and what could she do but endure it? Even the heavy breaths he seemed to take with his face planted in her tights… surely they didn’t serve a perverted purpose as well, right?

Though she shook and struggled, deep down she knew it didn’t change a thing. Her bonds--she’d been trying to escape them since the moment they were put on, and perhaps she underestimated the power of those hextech cuffs, or the slaver’s ropework, or simply overestimated her own ability…

She shouldn’t be getting demoralized either. And yet, as he continued to use her, and as she still failed to make any progress, her morale was beginning to dwindle. The reality of her situation was finally setting in. She couldn’t even ask them what would become of Valor.

He brought his attention away from Quinn’s legs, planting a deep, unwanted kiss on her gagged lips, holding it for a moment without needing to put any effort into maintaining it. Finally, he pulled away, ready to taunt the ranger one more time.

“You know, it’s not just me you need to apologize to. Caused a ton of trouble for the lot of us, you and your pretty little legs did. So before we ship you off to your buyer…”

She heard the creaking of the cell door once again, and braced herself for what was to come.