The Slave Driver

"Vile fiend! Release them at once or face the wrath of an Amazon!"

The Slave Driver shakes his head slowly. "I think not. Even if you did manage to find this place, by that time we'll have moved on. Just like we moved on from that place. And of course every day that goes by more girls get sold off never to be seen again."

"I will take each of them out of your hide," she says in a low, scary voice.

"Even if you do, it won't bring them back.”

The Amazon warrior makes a determined effort to get her anger under control, and let her Ambassador side take control. "What do you want?" she says in a more measured tone.

"In this moment, the same thing you want: to bring you over so we can chat in person," the man on the screen says.

She gives a sarcastic smile. "Give me your address and I'll be right over."

"Not quite as simple as that, I'm afraid. First we'll need to level the playing field a little."

Wonder Woman crosses her arms over her chest. "And what exactly did you have in mind?"

"Well since there happens to be a bunch of restraints behind you there, we may as well put them to good use."

She turns her head to look at the open wall locker, then back to look at the screen, one eyebrow raised skeptically.

"I know I know, you're thinking how stupid can this guy be? Does he actually think a little light bondage is going to hold me?" He leans forward into the camera. "Ah but I know your secret, Amazon. I know you get your powers from your costume!"

Wonder Woman blinks, manages to keep her expression neutral.

"That's right. Some say it's your belt, others say it’s your bracelets, or your tiara, or whatever. But everyone agrees you lose your powers without it. So rather than guess which piece it is, you're going to take everything off for me, and then put on the chains. Then we’ll bring you over here."

The look on the heroine’s beautiful face could be mistaken for trying to hide her fear, rather than trying not to laugh. "Assuming you're right, why would I agree to such terms?"

The man in the mask leans back from the camera. "Because you know it's the only way you'll find me in time to make a difference. And because you arrogantly assume that once you're here, we'll make a mistake and you'll be able to free yourself and save the day." He shrugs, and holds up a black pistol, his thumb pulling the hammer back. "But mostly you'll do it because if you don't, I'm going to start shooting girls until you comply."

The Amazon tenses up at his words. "You wouldn't dare."

"Wouldn't I? They're just girls. I can always find more."

He pauses while she pretends to think about it.

"Do we need a demonstration?" Slave Driver gestures to someone off camera, and a girl is abruptly shoved into frame. She's young, 20 at most, a petite thing with short blonde hair and pale blue eyes. Her hands are bound behind her back and a cleave gag muffles her desperate sobbing. She’s wearing a dirty white camisole, the nipples of her A-cup breasts visible through the thin material.

The villain racks the slide of his pistol and presses it against her temple. The girl squeezes her eyes shut, and the man raises an eyebrow at the camera.

"Fine," Wonder Woman says, "We'll try it your way, for now."

"Just for now," the man says with as much sarcasm as humanly possible.