Question her

Walking behind her, you reach down and free the improvised stuff gag from her mouth. “Who are you?” she spits the second she’s able to.

“No one in particular. Your captor, obviously.”

She tries to follow you with her eyes. “I’m not sure what you think you’re going to accomplish here, but you’re making a huge mistake. Stronger men than you have tried to imprison the Princess of Amazons, and all have come to regret it. Untie me now, before things get worse for you!”

Her tone is commanding, a Princess used to being obeyed, and a heroine used to being able to back up her demands with ****. But you’ve come to far to back down now, and the throbbing in your pants is even more commanding. You take the end of the golden lasso in one hand as you lean down close to her ear. Her hair smells like lavender and strawberries underneath a layer of sweat from her earlier fight. “So is it true you have to answer my questions while you’re tied with in this rope of yours?”

She clenches her jaw for only a second before she is **** to reply. “Yes, anyone bound in the lasso must truthfully answer the questions of whoever holds it.”

“And you can’t escape?”

“No, as long as I am bound by the lasso I am your prisoner. Nonetheless I will get free and when I do you will regret your choices.”

You think for a second. “How do you think you will get free?”

Her answer again is nearly instantaneous, but her tone is sour. “You will make a mistake. You’ll get careless and relax your guard. Or you’ll leave me unattended and I’ll be able to smash the chair and free myself. Or maybe you’ll untie me so you can take off my costume. Or hand me over to someone less careful. If none of those happen, it’s just a matter of time until Batman and the others will figure out something is wrong and come looking for me.”

"Gosh, thanks. That's a nice list of rookie mistakes I can now avoid!"

She looks genuinely angry now, but still not scared. Not yet.