Meteor Maid slowed to sixty miles an hour as she entered the exhibit hall, then came to a full stop as she confronted Madame Molecula.
“All right, Molecula! Time to surrender!” The words were the same ones she’d often used before, but her tone and posture utterly lacked the no-nonsense demeanor that sometimes convinced her opponents to do just that.
The villainess grinned. “Yes. Yes, it is.”
She opened one of the pouches of her belt and took out a length of cord. After taking a moment to wiggle it around, as if she needed to get the feel of it, she tossed it toward her opponent with a casual flick of the wrist.
Meteor Maid should have been able to dodge that even without using her superspeed. She should have been able to dodge that even if she were in her civvies as Astrea Aron, feigning slowness and clumsiness to protect her secret identity.
But she did not. She did not move as the memory-plastic entangler wrapped itself tight around her, binding her arms at her sides. Nor did she make any attempt to vibrate herself free or otherwise escape.
The heroine watched as her captor brought out another restraint— a black leather collar and leash. She stood passively as they were affixed to her neck.
“Come along, darling.”
She kept pace with her Mistress, the leash hanging slack between them.