Valuable Merchandize

Chapter 2. Custom tailoring

by Skytower

Alex's body ached and she was starting to forget how to speak English. She could still think in English, but as she talked the words came out in the drow language. Somehow that was more frightening to her than anything else. Alex could have accepted hypnosis or drugs affecting her, she had seen that happen in some criminal cases. But this was magic. Magic had no reason, no order, and no rules. Alex had no way to fight magic.

Alex, Olivia and Wonder Woman had spent hours in the main dungeon, chained and with the cages on their heads. Drog had explained the rules of drow society, how they were to act at all times. She had explained them only once but Alex could remember each rule. After she was done the cambion had simply left the women while she attended to other work. At first Alex could hear her, but not really see her. Then she could barely hear Drog at all. The metal prods that pressed against the opening to her ears buzzed with a continual, yet varying sound. Alex was helpless to move her head or ignore the sound. After a while her jaw started to move in response to impulses from the metal tab in her mouth. Glowing red runes etched into the metal glowed in shifting colors.

This was the way the magical artifact taught her the drow language. Every word, every syllable, every nuance was pushed into her head ruthlessly. There was no way for Alex to tell how long it took. When the runes did finally fade and the noise stopped Alex's head and jaw ached. Drog took the apparatus off of her head and said something in the drow language.

"Please." Alex responded in the same language. Drog nodded and held a cup of water up to her lips. The water had a harsh mineral taste but Alex drank gratefully.

After she was done Drog moved over to Olivia and took her head-cage off. Alex looked and saw that Olivia's neck and face was marked where the cage had rested. The runes of the metal seemed to have been burned into her skin. Alex wondered if the same marks were on her neck and face.

Olivia replied to the same question using the drow language and drank just as greedily. After Olivia was done Drog undid Alex's chains and let her fall to the floor. Alex lay in a heap, trying to overcome the shock and get her body to move. She managed to tremble a little but that was it. A minute later Olivia fell beside her. Drog picked them both up and carried them back up the spiral ramp. Just near the top she opened a door and carried them both into a room. The room held two beds set against either wall, a small stream of water flowed into a carved basin and out of it again, forming a primitive sink. In a corner of the room was a small seat with a dark whole in the center. Writings were carved into the walls. They were crude and in dozens of languages. The rock that made up the walls was deep grey but veins of phosphorus gave off enough light to see.

It was a cell, not a room and Alex tried not to give into despair as she was dumped onto the bed. The fabric was rough against her skin and there was no mattress, merely hard wood. She could offer no resistance as Drog chained her wrist and ankles to the bed. The bed was at least two feet too short for Alex and her legs dangled over one edge. Drog did the same to Olivia and then left.

"Alex?" Olivia called.

"Here." Alex answered in the drow tongue. She found some solace in her name still being pronounced in English.

"Can you move?"

Alex tried to pull her wrist out of the chains but failed, and she couldn't pull the chains out of the bed.

"Not a chance." she said. "You?"

"No." Olivia sighed. "What do they want with us?"

Alex barely heard the question as sleep claimed her.

A New York police squad room is never truly calm. There were times that were less filled with stress and pain, but the emotions were always there, forming an undercurrent of pain that permeated the lives of those who worked there. Eliot Stabler and John Munch had worked long enough that they were barely aware of the atmosphere of the squad room. The knew it was there, like the person who takes tolls knows the sound of traffic is always there, but it wasn't something they normally paid attention too. But a detective missing from the force along with an ADA was not normal times. On a large board in the squad room the faces of Olivia, Alex and four other women and two men were set with lines and notes around them.

"You get the feeling we're out of our league?" Detective Fin Tutuola asked. He was a heavy set man with dark brown skin, a long face with sparsely filled goatee and mustache. Tutuola's eyes were the key to his being though, they showed the despair and grim determination of a man who had clawed his way through the grime of society, and now sought to keep that society from devolving. They were hard, cold eyes that simmered with weary anger and they matched the dour expression his face never lost.

"Why because the capes are involved?" Elliot asked.

"It's more than costumes man." Tutuola said. "They don't teach magic at the academy. When I shoot a guy I don't want the bullets to bounce off."

"Olivia is one of us." Elliot insisted.

"Yea, but do we have the muscle to help her?" Munch asked. "I saw Wonder Woman throw a car at someone once. Fin's right, this might not be our case."

"It may not be our case completely but we're a part of it now." Captain Donald Cragen said walking in from his office. He was a medium built man with more experience on the force, and less hair because of it, than any of them. "I just got off the phone with the DEO, Batman, through the JSA, has requested that SVU handle the New York part of the investigation."

"Batman asked for us?" Elliot asked.

"Yes I did." Batman said.

All the noises and activity of the squad room stopped at the sound of his voice. Everyone looked at the tall man in the mask and cape, taken aback that someone dressed as Batman could simply walk into a police station and not be noticed until he spoke out loud. If he noticed the stunned work stoppage Batman didn't show it. Instead he looked at the board. "These people, and the people in the other cities, were all abducted by similar means, by someone who has deep ties to one of the international human trafficking networks that's operating out of one of the T3 countries."

A glare from Cragen had started work going again in the squad room, but it was distracted work.

"Tier 3." Tutuolo said, his gritty voice echoing the frustration everyone felt. There were 3 separate categories for every country on the planet based on how well they fought human slavery. Tier 3's were the worst. "That's ten countries."

"If we can find the country we can start finding these people and the others who have vanished."

"Ok." Cragen said. "We start with the two dead men and work from there."

"That computer terminal will give you access to the Justice League database." Batman said nodding toward a gleaming new computer terminal that sat on Detective Munch's desk.

"Jeasus!" Munch swore stepping back away from it. That a man in a costume could sneak into the squad room was one thing, that he could bring and set up a high tech slim line computer terminal un-noticed brought them all fully into the Twilight Zone.

"Had to pick my desk?" He asked trying to steady himself.

"Why us?" Elliot demanded, refusing to be thrown off balance.

"There is no one in this city who can do a better job." Batman said. He said it not as a compliment but a simple statement of fact. "Also Detective Benson and Assistant District Attorney Cabbot are part of your team, you know them, that will give you an edge. Both women had to be lured to that building somehow. You're the best ones to find out how."

"How did they manage to catch Wonder Woman?" Munch asked.

"Gas." Batman said producing a cd-rom from somewhere on his belt. Extremely powerful knockout gas, it hasn't been identified yet."

The new computer terminal beeped and Batman walked over to it.

"You're online now. You four men are the only ones with access, voice or keyboard input. Any message you put here will be transferred to whatever member of the JSA or the JLA that is in this area. If you need superpowered help ask. Any information we find will be passed to this terminal."

He walked back over to the board and looked at the pictures.

"This woman is Rachel Greer." Batman said pointing to a picture of a smiling woman sitting at a diner. "A nurse. She vanished from her apartment 3 days ago."

"Well let's look her up." Munch said sitting down at his desk. "Computer?"

"Online." the computer said in a voice Munch and Elliot recognized.

"You used Batgirl's voice for the..." his voice trailed off as Munch and everyone else in the squad room realized that Batman wasn't there anymore.

The chamber was not made for humans or drow. It was shaped as an octagon with a rough stone floor that bit into Alex's feet with every step. The drow had made it their own, with furniture, tapestries and magic, but not completely. Alex wondered if any of them noticed the strangeness. It seemed unlikely. She walked across the huge chamber flanked on either side by drow soldiers. In deference to Alex, she hoped, torches lit the room. Drog had told her that creatures of the Underdark didn't really need light. The torches dimly lit the chamber, but lit enough so that she did not bump into anything. At this point Alex was hoping for any sign that she might get through her adventure alive.

The furniture was elegant, almost baroque with the repeated them of spiders devouring prey, trapping prey or gazing at prey. On a raised platform was a fine couch, beside it a scribe's table. To Alex's left was a cage that held a light skinned nude elf. The cage bars were full of spurs and dark with blood. Tiny spiders were carved in bass relief on the bars and the cage resembled a giant cylindrical web. The elf stood still, her eyes open but glazed, her breathing barely noticeable. Black energy crackled and flowed around the metal, like some dancing wildfire. There was an indescribable beauty to the elf. Not only beauty but nobility as well. It showed in the graceful curve of her chin and the strong features of her face. She was a slim woman, much like Alex with small breast and hips, but her nipples were dark red where Alex's were light beige.

At the scribe's table, pen in hand, sat what looked like a small child at first. But as she got closer Alex realized she was looking at a hobbit. Curly brown hair, going silver around the edges, offset a pale face with small eyes and a thin mouth. He wore a parody of a Victorian writers garb, frilly white shirt, frock coat and waistcoat, elegant, but wrong somehow. Then Alex saw that the coat was alive with dozens of small crawling black spiders. Beside him on a couch carved from grey rock and festooned with precious gems, rested a drow woman. Alex realized this drow was the matron mother, supreme ruler of the family. Drog had been pointed about how to address this particular drow. The drow lay with her back against the pillows, her body clothed in a red gown that seemed to shine against her dark skin. Her white hair fell to her waist and the cold red eyes in her perfectly formed face chilled the captive. As Drog had instructed her to do Alex knelt before the raised throne. It was not an easy thing to do. When Drog had freed her from the bed she had strapped Alex into a harness that held her arms behind her body, nearly at the level of her shoulders, with bars to keep her wrist and elbows apart. A short length of chain hobbled Alex's ankles. After that the cambion had draped a diaphanous black fabric over Alex's head. The fabric did nothing to hide her nudity, but it felt cold against her skin. A moment after it had settled onto her body the fabric had vanished. Olivia had watched the process, helpless to aid her. She tried to talk but Drog ordered her to stay silent. The Alex had been marched naked through a series of passageways, thankfully encountering no one.

Now Alex felt as if her life depended on the next few minutes. A part of her still could not believe it. How had the grim but stable world of New York been stolen from her so easily? It was Saturday morning, or at least she had been taken on Friday night so it might be Saturday morning. Alex knew she should have been sleeping late or laying in her bathtub listening to some romance books she had on cd.

"You are what as known as a:"lawyer"? The Matron Mother asked snapping Alex out of the reality she was used to into the reality she was stuck in.

"Yes Matron mother." Alex said not looking up.

"Tell me then, what does a lawyer do in your world?"

"I..." Alex faltered, unsure of how much detail to go into and in that moments hesitation the cloak re-appeared on her body and then it burst into flame.

Alex screamed as a green fire enveloped her body and her nerves melted. She could smell her hair burn and Alex saw her skin melt from her body. She saw the flesh and muscles on her hands burn away, leaving white bones. The flames did not spare her mind either. Dredged up from her memory was a time in junior high school when a then-drunk Alex had fallen into a pool at a friend's party and lost her dress in the water.

Then the illusion was over and a gasping Alex was on the floor quivering. The fabric was gone. The pain was gone; her body was un-harmed. But the awesome terror lingered.

"That was one warning." The drow woman said, not hiding the pleasure in her voice. "I am Matron Mother Mer'olin Ardul'ithra. My questions are to be answered."

"Forgive me Matron mother... please..." Alex scrambled to her knees, feeling shame and self-hatred over the groveling but her absolute terror of the Matron Mother left her no choice. "A lawyer is a very complicated profession, I was not sure where to begin... I am a lawyer for my government, I prosecute ciminals..."

"Stop." the Matron Mother commanded. She laughed softly and spoke to someone in the shadows. "And you say this is a valuable person in that world?"

"Yes Matron Mother." the voice was soft, cultured but Alex couldn't force herself to look up. "From my time and studies I have learned that such as she, in their courts surrounded by many guards, is in her own way quite formidable. But if you take a large fish from its small pond its true size is quickly shown."

"Are you sure you did not choose her and the other for your own reasons?" Matron Mer'olin's voice held a knife-edge to it.

"The two of them were the easiest to take, small people who would attract the least attention. Neither of them belong to any great family, their positions in the local government will be easily filled. We have more to fear from the nobles that..."

"Silence." Matron Mer'olin's voice cracked like a whip and Alex couldn't help but shrink from it. She desperately wanted to look up, to see whom the matron mother was talking about, but she didn't dare.

"My apologies Matron Mother." the voice said. "But please trust me and try to forebear her ignorance, she is only human after all. A human who has never been away from her safe world."

Matron Mother Mer'olin laughed and Alex felt her face go red with shame and impotent rage.

"We shall make it simple for her then." She said but Alex could tell that the matron mother's anger was not completely abated. "Human. Alex. Tell me about your laws, start with the most basic and keep talking until I tell you to stop. The net will sense if you are lying in anyway and the flame will return. Now begin."

"To start there is the constitution..." Alex began and as she talked Alex could hear the scribe scribbling away.

After Alex and Drog had left Olivia started to work at her chains. She didn't really hold out much hope, from the dents and scars on the metal it looked as if the chains had held many in their day. Still it was something to do.

"How to escape." Olivia whispered and was frustrated to find that the words coming out of her mouth were not English. A flowing language, a cross between German and Japanese filled her ears. Olivia stopped struggling, leaned back, closed her eyes and took a deep breath. The damp air of the cell, heavy with the despair of former prisoners filled her nose and mouth. It was impossible. Like Alex Olivia lived in the down and gritty world of reality. The pervert, the drug dealer; the streets of New York were her world. She had seen superheroes from time to time, usually flying around, but had never met any. In fact Olivia had never met any of the superbeings neither hero nor villain that filled her world. But in the course of one night, less than that really, she had met a dark elf, Wonder Woman, more dark elves and whatever Drog was. Now she was naked and helpless in a cell that had held many like her, trapped in a Tolkienesque nightmare. Olivia had seen crime scenes up close, closer than Alex and that closeness had built up a hard callus on her emotional skin. But Olivia was also the child of rape. It had taken her a long time to come to terms with her origin, to understand why her mother had chosen to raise her. Olivia admired her mother more than she could say, but when she thought about it the policewoman knew that she could never do the same thing. She did not know if there was any sexual danger in this world, but being nude and chained was the stuff of her worst nightmares.

Olivia opened her eyes and began to work on her chains again. It didn't matter who had taken her or where she was. She would not go down with out a fight.

Hours' later Olivia had to admit defeat. Her constant abuse of the manacle on her wrist was doing more damage to her flesh than to the metal. She was hungry and her muscles ached from the enforced position. The harsh fur beneath her bit into her skin. She had only rested a few moments when Drog came in carrying a sobbing Alex.

"What the hell did you do to her?" Olvia demanded.

Drog ignored the question and un-strapped Alex from her harness. Alex didn't move as the cambion left the cell.

"Alex!" Olivia called.

On the bed Alex trembled and mumbled what sounded to Olivia the word:"sorry" over and over again.

Drog came back in carrying more chains and two collars. Lifting Alex up she put the collar around her neck, strapping it tightly, and then put the other end of the chain through a ring high up on the wall. She pressed the chain together after the ring and the links flowed like water, joining together. With Alex secured Drog took the other collar over to Olivia.

"What happened to her!" Olivia demanded.

"The drow are curious about your world." Drog said, releasing Olivia's wrist. Olivia hands shot out with every bit of muscle she had but it was like punching Styrofoam. Drog easily held her fast and bent her arms behind her. Olivia did not stop struggling even as the chains were fastened onto her wrist.

"She did well, answered most questions enough to keep her alive. You'd better do the same."

"I'm a cop, she's a prosecutor." Olivia protested as a short chain was put on her ankles. "We know pretty much the same stuff."

"You better hope not." Drog said putting the fabric on Olivia's head. It settled onto he skin and vanished. You take my advice you be as valuable to them for as long as you can."

"Or they'll kill me?" Olivia sneered.

"If your lucky." Drog laughed. "What ever you were in your world is over, now your just another slave. Keep that in mind or they shove it into your head with a red hot branding iron."

Olivia's throat was raw when, much, much later, Drog deposited her back into the cell and collared her to the wall. She had quickly found out why Alex had been crying. Olivia had been beaten once by a suspect, and another time been hit with a taser shot, but nothing compared to being engulfed by the green mystical flame. She didn't have the strength to resist as Drog chained her neck to the wall as she had Alex. Then the cambion left. Olivia reached up and rubbed her throat, not because of the chain but because her throat hurt. Olivia had talked and talked and talked, and then talked some more. The drow seemed not to need sleep at all, and the scribe had gone through paper and ink at an astonishing rate. There had been no let up in the questions, or the way Olivia had been made to kneel in her bondage harness. And the green flame always lingered, always ready. The only good thing was that the drow seemed to have an instant understanding of what she was saying. They may have scorned and laughed at the laws but they listened. To what end Olivia did not know. The questioning had only stopped because Olivia's throat was too raw to talk.

Olivia struggled to her feet and went over to the running water. With a moan Alex nearly fell off of the bed and grabbed Olivia's leg.

"Nongnoll wat...wot.oo nooo...." Alex managed to croak out. Olivia bent down and saw that Alex's lips were raw and bleeding. Alex eased her aside and then reached up and put her finger into the water and thence touched it too her lips. Alex groaned as the skin of her lip boiled for a moment and then subsided.

"The water?" Olivia asked.

Alex nodded.

Olivia helped her friend get up and back into her own bed and sat with her. She remembered the harsh mineral taste and realized that the water must be too harsh to drink after all that talking.

Alex was asleep already. Olivia laid her down as gently as she could and then went to her own bunk. Around her the sounds of the dungeon echoed. Screaming, moaning or cries for mercy or unintelligible answers to questions. As she drifted off into an exhausted sleep Olivia, like Alex, wondered how her world had changed so quickly.

If Olivia or Alex could have seen Wonder Woman at that point they would have realized how fortunate they were. Instead of a chain around her neck or a harness holding her arms Wonder Woman was strapped to a round slab. She was laid out as a giant upside down Y, with cold metal straps running across her legs, over her stomach, along her arms, around her neck and head with only 2 inches between them. Smaller straps even held her fingers together. A strap went up from Wonder Woman's neck, over her face and connected to the stone, making an effective gag. Another strap ran across her eyes, leaving only a slight sliver of an opening for Wonder Woman to look down. The bondage was more complete than any Diana had ever known, even more so than being held by her own magic lasso. She could not even strain her muscles against the metal, as the straps were too tight. What made the captivity even more uncomfortable was that Diana's back was against the ceiling and she was facing down toward either a floor or an endless drop.

Her career as a superheroine had taught Diana to endure situations like this. She rested, she pushed worry from her mind and she waited.

A sound told Diana that her patience had been rewarded. It was the sound of a door opening and many soft steps. Light managed to work its way around her blindfold but Diana could make nothing out. She felt the slab she was on move toward the floor. When Diana's body touched the floor the slab and her bonds dissolved, all but the ones on her wrist. Even before Diana could move she was seized and held on the floor. More chains were put on her ankles and a wide metal collar was clamped around her neck. A manacle was fastened around her arms, holding them together just beyond the elbows. Her head was held firmly while all this was done, pressed into the hard stone floor.

Then she was released and pulled up onto her knees. Diana let her arms down at last, only to have them stopped. Two grey metal poles went from the collar around her neck and they blocked the amazon from putting her arms down fully. Diana had to keep her arms raised or she wouldn't be able to see past them. Keeping her arms up to gain her sight Diana looked around. She was in a slave pen. It was a special pen, for the size of the bars in the cages and the gauge on the metal of the chains told her so. The ceiling was high and dark; the walls stained with blood from the torture devices that stood near the walls and the floor was cold and grey. The light was dim, almost too dim to see but that seemed to have no effect on her captors. Two of them stood on either side of her, holding the five-foot long poles that attached to her neckband. They were male elves, dark skinned with red eyes and white hair. Dressed in black and red armor with swords at their sides they appeared ready to take on any threat.

Not that Diana was much of a threat at this point, despite the fact that she towered over them. At the doorway stood three female elves, like the males dark skinned with white hair. They each wore tight red leather corsets and gossamer red skirts. Their hair flowed around their heads, framing faces of incomparable beauty. If anything they were smaller than the men and except for the look of cruelty on their faces Diana could have thought them children.

"Bring her." the one in the center, said.

By the use of the poles they dark elves pulled and yanked Wonder Woman down corridors and up ramps until they came to a vast chamber. By the time they reached it Diana's nude body had acquired a sheen of sweat that reflected the eerie red light of the room. Even though she was bound Diana was taller and weighed more than the elves and she used that to make them work at moving her. Painful as it was she stumbled and then stayed down while they pulled and yanked, making the elves do the work of lifting her to her feet. She pulled right when they pulled left and pulled left when they pulled right. Her muscles ached because of her efforts but at least she had made them work for it.

The chamber was a place of power. Arcane runes that smoldered red and black were etched into a neutral grey stone floor. The place was smoky with incense, a smell that reminded Diana of an opium den she had once been in. Struggling at each step Diana was pulled into the center of one of the circles. Her ankles were chained to rings on the floor, spreading her legs as far as they would go. Another chain was lowered from the shadows of the ceiling and attached to the chains on her wrist. Her arms were pulled behind her body forcing her to lean back. Her hair was pulled behind her and tied off painfully with a cord. A ball gag was forced into her mouth and buckled tightly. The gag was stone and tasted of foul things.

Once she was completely helpless and immobile the male elves left. The three females walked to the edge of the circle. One of them stood directly in front of Diana and smiled.

Shri'dra Barri'duis smiled and felt a hot lust fill her. Not her body, though that was often enough an occurrence when she was with a helpless prisoner. In her two hundred years of life Shri'dra had learned that there was nothing so intoxicating as power. No lovers' hands or tongue had ever thrilled her as much as the complete defeat and subjugation of an enemy. Shri'dra was young by drow standards, and her family not even noticed by the other drow. Her mother had thought to use that to her advantage and had conspired and schemed to elevate them beyond what they had been. But she had backed the wrong people and the Barri'duis, which in the common tongue meant:"Spawn of the Whip", were forced to flee Ched Nassad. But instead of perishing in the wilds of the Underdark Lolth had led them to this city. It was a place of a heretic and her band of followers. Outcast and rabble with no real soldiers to aid them they had fallen in days. Shri'dra remembered the years and years of pleasure after that conquest. It was one thing to take slaves after all, it was another to train them. None were better in Ched Nassad or even in Menzoberazan in slave training than Shri'dra.

But this was no slave to train. A part of Shri'dra was sorry about that. The woman looked to be a challenge. But the tall buxom woman before her had been chosen for another role. And Shri'dra had been chosen as well.

Her mother and sister began the spell and Shri'dra joined in, giving her full voice and power to the chanting as they called upon Lolth. In some deep dark corner of her being Shri'dra was afraid. The Spider Queen was notoriously fickle, if she chose not to favor the spell then Shri'dra could look forward to nothing more than pain.

She could not acknowledge the fear, even to herself, for the goddess could see into a drow's heart and Lolth was not a forgiving deity. Besides the last spell had worked, Shri'dra had seen it in action her sister Briz'aere had proven that it could be done.

Despite the fact that the spell was taking hold of her now, Shri'dra could not suppress the thrill that had come over her at the memory of how her sister had used her newfound power. Power of a sort that would soon be hers. Shri'dra hoped to Lolth it was power equal to or greater than the power Briz'aere had stolen. She had some things she wanted to pay her sister back for.

Then the full power of the spell consumed her and Shri'dra forgot how to think at all.

They were spell casting, Diana could tell that. But to what purpose? Would they seek to enslave her mind? That had been done often in the past but Diana felt no different. She puzzled as she watched and prepared herself mentally just in case.

The chanting took on a power of it's own as time when on. It shifted cadence and volume and the notes and syllables seemed to hang in the smoky air long after they should have faded. It was as if there was no escape in the room, not for Diana or even for sound.

The smoke got heavier around the dark elf directly in front of Diana, the one who had smiled at her. Now the smoke gathered about her body, layer after layer building it like cloth into a shroud. The dark elf kept chanting until she was wholly wrapped in the smoke. Soon the newly-made cocoon was filled with dark pulsating lights. The sight disgusted Diana, filling her with revulsion on some primal level that she could not identify. A perversion was taking place in that pulsating sack of lights and flesh. If Diana could have she would have screamed a prayer to her own gods, but she was helpless to do anything but watch.

After a time the cocoon grew still and the lights faded. A soft breeze, from where Diana had no idea, caressed the room. The cocoon crumbled to dust on the floor.

Diana realized that the chanting had stopped and that the other two dark elves were laying on the floor in a faint. Realizing that there would be no better time Diana pulled and twisted at her bonds, straining with every ounce of strength and spirit within her; and ultimately failing as Diana knew she would. Those who captured her were not fools, there was no escape, but she had to try.

A stirring in the dust caught Diana's eye. A small red and black spider, no bigger than her little finger struggled out of the dust. It lurched from one direction to the other at first. Its legs tangled and it presented the captive amazon with an almost comical performance. Then it seemed to gain control over its body and move toward her. Diana watched as it lurched over to one of her legs and she felt it on her skin as the spider began to climb.

Fear made Diana pull at her chains once more, but they held as the spider climbed up past her knee. Diana clenched her muscles in terror as it climbed over her hairless pussy and sighed with relief as the arachnid continued on. She tried to shake it off of her stomach by thrusting her stomach muscles in and out, but it held on. She could feel each of the eight legs as it crawled along her skin. It paused at the underside of her left breast, probing slightly. Diana stayed completely still until it was on the breast. Then she shook and pulled with all her might. Her massive breasts heaved up and down and side to side, giving any that could have seen her a spectacular show. For a moment she thought it had worked and the spider had been thrown off. But she looked down and saw that it had held on, dangling from a nearly invisible strand of webbing that had been attached to the tip of her large brown nipple. She tried to shake it off as it resumed climbing, but the previous effort had exhausted her. She tried to squash it with her chin, but the creature crawled under her arm and around her shoulder. Then it crawled onto the side of her neck and Diana knew she was lost. She trembled as the spider climbed up the side of her face and crawled into her ear. Diana cried as the creature pressed on, her head whirling as its movements destroyed her sense of balance. She could feel it digging at the flesh in her ear, probing with its legs. Then she could feel it no more in her ear, but Diana could feel it moving further in.

Suddenly Diana felt her spirit seized, as if from behind and pulled back. It was as if she was being dragged into a deep hole and all the light she could see was a small pinprick on the horizon. The hole was the perfect prison and Diana was not alone in it. The dark elf that had smiled at her was smiling at her now.

"I am Shri'dra Barri'duis." She said smiling. "You are Diana, sometimes called Diana Prince, sometimes called Wonder Woman. You have a sister, when you were younger on Paradise Island the two of you played amazon games."

Diana realized that Shri'dra was reading her mind, that all the barriers were gone and that her deepest thoughts and fears were now an open book to the dark elf. She realized that and more. She realized that her body had been freed from the chains, but it wasn't her body anymore. She knew what was happening, she could see now through her bodies eyes, hear through her bodies ears; but her body was not under her control anymore. Her body, her powers and her memories were completely in possession of the dark elf.

And Shri'dra smiled at her again.

"You know sometimes its not that people do good things for you so much as it is why people do good things for you that matters."

The voice was slightly high pitched, with a hint of anxiety combined with a hint of madness to it. This would have surprised many that knew him since the Joker was not one who usually knew fear. But it was there, even though he hid it well. At the moment of course he had nothing to worry about. He lounged naked on a bed of soft silks and furs and drank from a glass filled with fine wine. The Joker was a madman of indeterminate age. His hairless slim body was lean and stringy; the pale white skin not quite leached off all color. His hair was green and his face bore a permanent scarred smile and a wild look was in his greedy eyes. But there was pleasure was well as insanity in those horrible green windows to his nearly forgotten soul.

The reason for his pleasure was the young woman between his legs. The Black Canary had closed her mouth around his erect penis and her tongue traveled along its shaft while her Canary Cry, the sonic scream that could shatter metal, gave off a continual low bass thrum that further stimulated him.

The Joker leaned back and favored the young woman standing on the other side of the room with a wink.

"I'm still not feeling it." He called softly. Between his legs the Black Canary gave out a whimper and began to work harder. The Joker and the woman laughed. There were many levels to the Joker's mind. Fear was there, for in the Underdark even such as the Joker was considered no more than an amusing freak. The drow would kill him in a second if he failed to please or be of use to them. But he knew that as long as he kept himself useful he'd stay alive. In fact Drow society, based as it was on treachery and evil, suited him quite well.

The pleasure in his mind came from many sources. It was not only, as he pointed out, that Black Canary was giving him the best blow job he'd ever known, it was WHY she was doing it. He had helped capture Dinah in January, it was now only May (on Earth at least, there was no way to really tell time in the Underdark) and the drow had completely broken her spirit. In the past even the Joker had been hesitant about a heroine taking his manhood into her mouth. One thing heroines had were good teeth and even he wasn't that crazy. But the drow had taken her apart and put her back together again and now the Black Canary feared them above all else. Even with all the mind control technology of Earth the Joker didn't think he could have accomplished that so quickly.

The other part of his pleasure was who was watching them. The girl on the far side of the room stood a little over five and a half feet. She was young, no more than 20 years old, with light blonde hair. Her figure was slim, her face round and her eyes red. The costume she wore was familiar, but changed. The giant red letter "S" on her chest was grasped by a spider and was a sleeveless halter rather than a full blouse. Her red skirt reached barely beyond her thighs and was inscribed with red spiders. More than anything else though was the snake headed whip that was coiled and attached to her belt. This was Supergirl's body, but not Supergirl. Briz'aere Barri'duis held the body and somewhere, the Joker knew this and this gave him endless pleasure, a captive Supergirl was watching her friend the Black Canary totally degrade herself.

Briz'aere smiled at him and the Joker knew that as long as he kept her smiling he'd stay alive. It was a dangerous life, but he liked it. He liked the fact that he had known Supergirl's body as no other supervillain had, her lips had been where the Black Canary's were now, and his tongue had been in places even he had never dreamed off.

The room they were in was a bedroom and torture chamber. The Joker and Black Canary occupied a large round bed that was ringed with post for ropes or chains. By the door two creatures, half man/half bear stood with long swords drawn. They took no interest in what was going on. Only two candles lit the room. They were small islands of light that were set far enough away from the bed for safety. To a drow the place was as bright as day, able as they were to see in the dark. The Joker's eyes weren't as good, but he had grown accustomed to the dimness.

Briz'aere walked around the bed, looking closely at the wretched heroine. The way she walked could have told anyone who knew her that this was not Supergirl. Supergirl walked lightly with grace, Briz'aere stalked more than walked. Each step and movement was the step and movement of a predator stalking her prey. Black Canary was totally concentrated on her task and made sure not to look up at all. The last thing she wanted was to catch the eye of Briz'aere. Briz'aere sat down on the bed and stroked her fingers through the blonde hair of her slave. Her other hand moved down along the Black Canary's spine. Black Canary's body trembled from Briz'aere's attentions but before anything else could happen the door opened.

Shri'dra stood in the doorway wearing a black gossamer gown that did nothing to hide one inch of Wonder Woman's body. Only the bracelets and tiara were left of Wonder Woman's old costume. There was a cold sinful look on the amazon's face and her iris's were red.

Briz'aere laughed and went to meet her sister. They embraced. Then with a push from Shri'dra Briz'aere went flying through the room and crashed into the wall with enough force to leave a small crater.

Briz'aere smiled as she stood up, not hurt at all and flew to push Shri'dra into the opposite wall. Shri'dra made just as big a crater and was just as unhurt.

"All praise Lolth!" the two of them cried embracing. Briz'aere reached into the gown and took her sisters now large breast into one hand. Shri'dra smiled and kissed her sister. While they were thus embraced Briz'aere made a quick move and wrapped a strong cord around Shri'dra's wrist.

"What!" Shri'dra protested but her sister cut her off by taking her shoulders and pushing her down to her knees.

"We have their strengths sister, but also their weaknesses. You would do well to remember that."

"I know well yours sister." Shri'dra growled.

"And I know well yours younger sister." Briz'aere responded lifting her sister up she threw Shri'dra through the air and onto the bed. The impact knocked the Black Canary off of the joker and she fell to the floor. Before Shri'dra could do anything her sister was on top her of her, holding her wrist above her head. Briz'aere looked coldly at the Black Canary.

"I didn't say stop."

The Black Canary had fallen into the light given off by one of the candles and her body was fully revealed. She was a stocky young woman, firmly built with wide hips and medium sized breasts. Her body bore battle scars, as did her mind, but her eyes now reflected no inner courage or strength. Just fear. The reason was the black metal spider that was grafted to her flesh, just above her left breast. The magic that had grafted the spider there had stolen the heart from the young girl and the result of that was the quivering wretch who now pleaded for mercy.

"You're not ready for him." Briz'aere sneered as she lashed her now helpless sisters wrist to a convenient post. She pointed to one of the man/bear guards. "Satisfy him first."

Dinah's mouth fell open at the command but the spell that held her soul would accept nothing less than full obedience. Shaking she stood up.

"No." Briz'aere said as Dinah started to walk. "Crawl to him."

Dianah dropped to her hands and knees and crawled slowly toward the guard.

"Crawl!" Briz'aere shouted.

With a choked whimper Dianah fell on her stomach and started to crawl toward the bugbear.

Briz'aere turned back to her sister only to feel suddenly weak. She heard the last echoes of a spell and suddenly saw a glowing green rock appear in her sisters bound hands.

"We have their weakness." Shri'dra said smiling.

For a moment there was a calm before the battle. The Joker waited, wondering if it was safe. Then with a laugh that was not wholly fake Briz'aere untied her sister and Shri'dra threw the stone to the far side of the room. Then they turned and looked at him.

When Diana first came to man's world she managed to go nearly 3 months before her first sexual experience. It was not as Wonder Woman. The rapes she was to endure as the amazon heroine were to come much later. Diana had pushed that first experience to the back of her mind; buried it where it would never bother her again. But Shri'dra moved through her mind as if it was an open library. The drow wanted to prove to Diana her absolute vulnerability. The assault was two-fold; Diana saw through her eyes and felt through her body as Shri'dra eased her mouth over the Joker's penis; Diana experienced again that horrible first night.

It was an office party to celebrate a victory. Steve couldn't make it, which usually meant that Diana wouldn't go either, but Etta urged her to go. So Diana went and ended up talking to a nice marine general. They talked, they drank, he was charming, she drank more than she should have, he walked her home...

Diana remembered as he eased his way into her apartment with a kiss, the next thing she knew they were in her bedroom. She was kissing him while he was fondling her body. To drunk to even realize what was going on at first Diana responded to her bodies desires. By the time she thought to say no they were on her bed her clothes were strewn about the floor and he was mounting her. After he was inside of her Diana forgot everything else but how her body felt. They made love until both of them passed out and when Diana woke in the morning it was to a swift thank you from the general as he walked out the door. Diana felt horrible with her first hangover and the knowledge that, while she had not truly been raped, she had failed in the same way that her mother had failed. A way that she had promised her mother would never happen to HER. She had been plied with drink and her virginity taken by a complete stranger.

Shri'dra forced Diana to remember that night in horrid detail; the touch of his hands on her breasts, between her legs, the wild lust that gripped her, blasting away amazon training and common sense, and even as she forced Diana to remember, Shri'dra was spreading her legs and welcoming the Joker into her new body.

That first encounter had done more to destroy Diana than any nazi agent had or supervillain ever would. First was the horror, the fear that she had failed as an amazon and would loose her powers.

Diana felt the Joker enter her body and she felt the smooth surface of Supergirl's vaginal walls on her tongue.

When Diana found she had not lost her powers, that she was still an amazon, she was forced to wonder if she could live in man's world at all. Was she smart enough? How could she protect the world if she could be taken so easily? She remembered how easy it was to get drunk, how much fun she seemed to be having, how easily she had let herself be taken.

She longed to black out, to escape to oblivion, but there was no way for her to sleep or pass out. She felt her body respond to the Joker's thrusting.

It was only a week later that Diana learned that the general had died in the Pacific theatre. She felt grief, but at the same time relief and guilt over that relief. She could never be sure now, if he had seduced her or if she had been foolish or if she had simply wanted to make love to him. Did she truly long to be taken like that? Did she want Steve to take her that way?

The Joker sucked on her breast and Shri'dra moved Diana's tongue over Supergirl's clitoris and Diana felt the shame and pain of those early days again and again. She could not shut it out, she could not stop her body from being used. All that Diana could do was huddle in her mind and endure the dark elf's triumphant laughter.

...to be continued.