Secure Her Until The Transformation Is Complete

"Drones," Brainiac said. "Secure Cunt Prime in the lab. See that she comes to no harm."

As one unit, the robotized women stepped forward. Sick as she was, Lois Lane struggled. She screamed and cursed. Her final act of defiance, as the four women held her limbs, was to spit in Brainiac's emotionless green face...but he did not even react to that, simply staring at the feverish woman as she was carried away.

There was a chair like a gynecologist's chair in the lab. With every passing moment, Lois felt the weakness in her body, as with a bad case of flu. She had learned how to slip bonds and escape from normal grappling holds, but the women held her with inhuman strength as they **** her into the chair...and the moment her arms and legs were in position, small engines whirred, and metal bands slid securely into place.

They stared at her then, arms down by their sides. Blank eyes, faces pale and emotionless. This close, Lois could see that what she had taken as metallic outfits were actually parts of their bodies. The flesh was oddly plastic, hints of silver circuitry beneath the skin. A part of Lois wondered how much of their old selves the women still had.

"I'm sick," Lois said finally. "Burning up. Get me some water."

No movement...but then a sudden headache struck Lois. Something buzzed inside of her skull...a high-pitched noise...a cascade of static that made her shudder...and when it ceased, one of the women secured a small nozzle-tipped tube, as at a dentist's office, and placed it at the corner of the reporter's mouth.

Hesitantly, Lois brought her lips together and sipped. The water was cold, wet, metallic, heavy with dissolved salts or minerals...but it was there.

Slowly, Lois controlled her breathing. The heat inside her continued to build. Her guts churned painfully...worse than a period cramp. As if they were actually being rearranged.

Have to do something, Lois thought. Maybe I can get them to talk to me...

The bound reporter stared at the smallest of them. The epicanthic folds still remained over the eyes. The breasts, behind the metal cups that held them, were small. Lois was sure she knew who she was.

"Your name is Tonya Wong," Lois said. "Do you remember?"