The Femme Defenders in: Six Little Heroines!

By NoComeupance (nocomeupance@gmail.com)

Part 1: Stuck on You

Author's note: This story follows from Enter the Mind Mistress. You can probably pick up on everything you need here, but reading that story will provide a better introduction to the characters. All characters are my original creations. Or, where stolen, they've at least had the serial numbers filed off. On any other site, I'd be careful to include a rape warning for stories that contained rape; for this story on this site, I'm including a no-rape warning. So: There's no rape in this story. This part is mostly build-up. Part 2 jumps straight to the fun stuff.

*KRUNCH!*

“This had better-”

*KRUNCH!*

“Not-”

*KRUNCH!* *BLAAM!*

“Be another wild goose chase!”

The cast iron door to the warehouse, after deforming from the force of the sequence of blows, finally gave in and flew off its hinges, slamming to the ground halfway across the almost-empty room.

A vision of loveliness walked through the door, a perfectly proportioned model of feminine beauty. She was clad in a purple sleeveless dress with a deep v-neck that plunged past her navel, nearly to her groin, terminating in the buckle of a golden belt on which was inscribed the monogram “VG.” Her flowing skirts descended to her ankles, giving tantalizing glimpses of her long, toned legs and knee-length purple boots through a pair of thigh-high slits. Her raven hair cascaded down in elegant waves to mid-back. Her emerald green eyes scanned the darkened room for any sign of life.  

The Velvet Glove gave the metal door she had recently sent flying a dainty kick, then made a show of delicately blowing on the curled fingers of her right hand, garbed in one of her signature opera-length velvet gloves. She placed her left hand on her hip and adopted a contrapposto stance, affecting a world-weary pose.

“Based on our prior false steps, which I feel compelled to point out were the result of following unsolicited advice offered by team members that weren't me, and factoring in crime locations, travel times, and the speed of electronic relays, I can state that this warehouse is the origin point for the incidents that we are investigating with 93% confidence.”

Mind Mistress made her entrance, walking with her customary perfectly rigid posture and followed by the floating disc upon which she kept the various electronic devices that she used most frequently when in the field. Lean and toned, Mind Mistress had a soldier's body, a by-product of her service in the Space Patrol in the Thirty-Sixth Century. She wore a yellow-and-black sleeveless bodysuit accented by a half-sleeve olive drab military jacket and a belt, boots, and gloves. Short purple hair fell in messy curls over the green skin of her forehead and accented her perpetually bored-looking violet eyes. She scanned the warehouse for anything out of place that might indicate the entrance to the secret layer that she was 93% certain was here.

*SPROING!*

A giant green spring with a hint of red at one end rocketed into the room, landing in the middle of the floor. As it compressed, it deformed and merged into an amorphous blob, then sprang up into the shape of a young woman with red hair in a bob and wide blue eyes. The elastic superheroine wore a green legless and armless one-piece with a lace-up V-neck, along with matching green boots and a contrasting yellow sash. The young woman was frantically turning her head right, left, up, down, trying to look in every direction at once. Then, after turning her head momentarily into the shape of a lightbulb, she reformed her head to eliminate her hair and cover it in several dozen eyes, allowing her to see in every direction simultaneously.

“Ugh! For the love of God, Zoe, please try to stop with the grossness! Some of us are trying to do our jobs, and it's difficult when you're making us retch!” Velvet Glove sneered at the young heroine.

“Gosh, I'm sorry!” Zoe snapped back to her original, two-eyed state, “I'm just trying to be helpful. Also, I'm Rubber Girl now!”

“Lay off of Zoe, er, I mean, Rubber Girl, VG,” said a voice that was clearly doing its best to sound authoritative, but not quite succeeding, “She's trying her hardest.”

Jacky-of-all-Trades walked in, flanked on both sides by the two remaining members of the Femme Defenders, Bronco Buster and Flower Power. Jacky wore a red spandex outfit with yellow briefs, utility belt, cape, gloves, and boots, accented by the trademark exploding J logo on her chest. She had shoulder-length brown hair in a ponytail, brown eyes, and a haggard expression, the by-product of serving as leader of the Femme Defenders for the last six years.

Bronco Buster wore a brown Stetson hat pulled low over her brow, concealing her entire face but for her lips, which were pulled into a half-smile. A long scar could be seen, starting at the left side of her chin, splitting her lips on the left side, and continuing up into the shadow cast by her hat. Blonde hair fell in waves around her shoulders. She had on a white long-sleeved button-down shirt, an unbuttoned brown leather vest, and low-rise blue jeans. A leather belt holding twin holsters, which in turn held twin pearl-handled revolvers, and a pair of fringed leather boots with silver spurs completed the ensemble. She sauntered a few steps behind Jacky and, if she was scanning the warehouse, she didn't make a show of it.

Flower Power was emphatically not scanning the warehouse. She stared vacantly in front of her, a placid smile on her face, her flowing waist-length dirty blonde hair billowing behind her, held down by a hemp headband on her forehead and accented by a flower in her hair. Her heroine outfit, such as it was, consisted of a loose white blouse and tie-dyed ankle-length skirt, along with a pair of vegan faux-leather moccasins.

“She wouldn't have to try so hard if girl genius over there had actually been right!” Velvet Glove sneered.

All eyes turned to Mind Mistress. With the exception of Velvet Glove, they were all duly impressed with the alien's intellect, but so far it really, really looked like this was just an empty warehouse.

Mind Mistress closed her eyes and placed the tips of her left index and middle fingers against her temple. After half a second she opened her eyes, smiling.

“I have used my sub-dermal neural implant to monitor the local electric grid. As I expected, there are significant power fluctuations in this building. Moreover, this building draws vastly more electricity than any other building in a five-block radius, and most of those are active and operational warehouse facilities. I am now prepared to raise my confidence level to 99.8% that this is, indeed, the source of the recent rash of incidents.”

Velvet Glove rolled her eyes and threw her arms out to the side. “Well, then, Ms. Smarty Pants, why don't you show us the way in if you're so confident?”

The alien genius ran a hand through her hair, then turned to her floating disc. “I will require several hours to set up my equipment and conduct a proper survey...”

“We don't have time for that,” said Jacky, “I know a thing or two about finding secret entrances. There's probably a false wall or alcove. V.G., you take the north wall. Zoe, the south wall. I'll take the east, and B.B., you look at the west. Bronc, just give a holler if you see something.” She smirked at her little joke. Nobody else seemed to think it was funny.

Zoe and Bronco Buster headed to their assigned walls. Velvet Glove, on the other hand, made a bee-line for Jacky.

“I'll take the east wall, thank you very much. You can have the north,” said Velvet Glove.

Jacky sighed and massaged her temple. “That's not... But... Why?”

“Because I'm sure you picked the best wall for yourself. I'm not going to waste my time while you get all the glory.”

“Fine. Whatever,” Jacky rolled her eyes and made her way to the north wall. After years of fighting, she had learned to pick her battles with Velvet Glove. This time it just wasn't worth it. She turned to the north wall and began her survey. Pleased at her small victory, Velvet Glove instantly lost all interest when she realized that this would still mean a lot of boring looking at blank walls. She made her way to the east wall.

Zoe turned her lower half into a spring and launched herself to the south wall. Once there, after reforming her legs, she turned her right hand into a magnifying glass and began inspecting the wall, paying particular attention to the myriad cracks and flecked-off patches of paint that marred its surface.

Taking a rather less enthusiastic approach, Bronco Buster shoved her hands into her pockets and moseyed over to the western wall. Once there she stood back a few feet, tilted her head up, and began sweeping her eyes over it, left to right.

“Everyone's so high-strung today. Maybe if we all mellowed out and meditated a little, the universe would present us with the solution to our problem,” Flower Power offered. She stood in the center of the warehouse, feeling a bit bummed at the negative vibes her teammates were giving off.

“I'm sure that's why you weren't given a job,” said Mind Mistress as she sorted through her equipment, “So that you could ask the universe to solve our problems for us. Just please try to be quiet about it?”

Utterly failing to pick up on Mind Mistress's sarcasm, Flower Power beamed. “Groovy! Let me just find the best spot to align my chakras and tap into the ley lines!” She reached into her blouse and pulled out a hemp necklace with a crystal attached. A prism of light played across Flower Power's face as she gazed into it and twisted it around. She spun back and forth, then took a few steps forward, first large, then small. At last she came to the place where the bent iron door sat in the middle of the floor. She squinted at her crystal, then looked at the door, then at the crystal. Shrugging, she reached down and picked up the door as easily as if it were no heavier than a yoga mat. She tossed it aside, then frowned.

“Hey, soul-friends! I don't think I'll be able to properly read the aura here, let alone get a good sense of the tonality of its oneness,” Flower Power said.

There was a long moment of silence before Jacky, being the leader, decided to take the bullet for the team.

“And why is that, Flower?”

“Because somebody put a hatch right at the intersection of the ley lines! There's no way I'll be able to get into proper position to meditate here.”

“What?!” shouted Jacky.

“I know, right? They should really have, like, consulted a feng shui master before picking a place to install their hatch. The earth-lines here are going to bring all sorts of bad luck right into their door!”

The group returned to the center of the warehouse and stood surrounding the hatch.  

“Yay, Flower! You did it!” shouted Zoe.

Jacky bit her lip. “Alright, so, the hatch was just sitting under the door that V.G. knocked in. Not the proudest moment in Femme Defenders history, but nobody has to know but us, right?”

“I'll know!”

A booming contralto voice filled the room. The assembled superheroines looked around for its source, but none was apparent.

“It's a speaker. I'm not actually there,” said the incorporeal female voice.

“Well, yeah, we figured,” Jacky said, not entirely truthfully, “Who are you? What are you doing here?”

“Wouldn't you like to know? BWAHAHAHAHAHAHA!” A brief pause, then the voice spoke again, dropping into a more casual tone that crackled with vocal fry, “How was that? Was it menacing? Before we start, I just thought you should know that I haven't really done this before, so any constructive criticism you have would be, like, suuuuper helpful. And I mean constructive criticism, not subject matter criticism, like 'I would like it better if you weren't being a villain,' because that is not helpful at all!”

“I think you're doing great!” said Zoe. Her teammates stared at her. “What? I mean, it's her first time, and that was pretty menacing, right?”

“Thanks!” said the voice. The wheel on the hatch span counter-clockwise, then the hatch swung open with a hiss of recirculated air. “Anyhow, back to business. Enter, Femme Defenders, if you dare!”

“Hey, she knows who we are!” said Zoe in a stage whisper.

“Everyone knows who I am!” sniffed Velvet Glove, “Just because she knows what my sidekicks call themselves doesn't mean you get to take the credit.”

Ignoring her haughty cohort, Jacky stepped forward and mounted the ladder. “Come on, team! Let's keep it together and take out whoever this is!” She began the descent into darkness, followed by her five fellow heroines.

***

The ladder terminated in a square room, lit by white fluorescent tubes in the ceiling. A solid-looking steel door sat in the middle of the far wall. Above them, a solid clunk and a sound of grinding metal told them that the hatch had been sealed behind them.

“Ah ha! You have fallen into my trap!” said the voice.

“So, hey, criticism: I'm not sure if it's a trap if you just invite us and then we come in? Like, I'm sure you're about to put us in some kinda danger, but since we're pretty much expecting it that's not really trappish, if that makes sense?” Zoe said.

“Whatever. You can't leave. It's a trap,” said the voice.

“She's trying to give you the criticism you just asked for. If you react snottily when people offer you suggestions, they'll stop offering you suggestions,” said Jacky.

“Alright, alright, I'll make a note. Geez. Ugh, now I've forgotten where I was... Oh, right! Death robots! Yeah.”

Panels slid open on both side walls and a dozen six-foot-tall steel robots with telescoping legs and arms tromped out. The robots raised their strangely gun-shaped hands at the group of heroines.

“I calculate a 94% probability that those strangely gun-shaped hands are, in fact, guns,” said Mind Mistress.

*ZAP!*

With perfect synchronicity, each of the robots fired off a pink laser simultaneously at the Femme Defenders, all of whom leaped out of the way, except Flower Power. The blast slammed into the self-actualized superheroine. If she had been an ordinary human, the force of the blast would have broken her down into her component atoms. As it was, thanks to her extra-sturdy physiology, it merely knocked her backwards onto her butt. She sat on the ground with a dazed expression, which was surprisingly difficult to distinguish from her ordinary appearance.

The remaining Femme Defenders sprang into action. Jacky pulled a collapsible steel boomerang from her utility belt and flung it at the neck of the nearest robot. It presented an easy target and within half a second the steel edge of the boomerang had severed the head from the robot's body.

Bronco Buster had drawn both pistols and was systematically targeting the limbs of any robot that came near her, correctly identifying the gangly collapsible appendages as the weakest point on the robots. In short order she had turned three robots into flailing chunks of scrap metal.

Mind Mistress backed away from the mob of robots, seeking to isolate one. At last, a robot broke off from the herd and engaged her. She quickly closed the distance between them, eliminating the advantage it had at range with its gun-hand. She then dodged its swinging arms and returned targeted blows to its neck and shoulder joints. While physical confrontation was not Mind Mistress's strong suit, she had trained in Venusian Aikido at Space Patrol Academy and was reasonably proficient. It took some time, but eventually she was able to remove the robot's right arm and use it to knock its head off.

Velvet Glove had no such difficulty putting her opponents away. What she lacked in finesse she made up for in sheer strength. She waded straight into the group of robots, swinging wildly and sending gears and electronics flying. By the time Mind Mistress finished her one robot, Velvet Glove had turned five into piles of rubble.

Zoe was in a bit of a panic. She wasn't especially strong and had a tendency to forget her martial arts training in pressure situations. She leaped around the room, trying to stay out of everyone's way, until she found herself in a corner, a death robot looming over her. The teenaged heroine squatted in the corner and trembled. Then she noticed the robot's spindly legs and was struck with an idea. Stretching herself out to be as long as she could, which was quite long indeed, she wrapped herself around first its right leg, through the middle, then around the left leg, through the middle again, and so on, over and over until the robot's legs were hopelessly bound. It tried to move, wobbled, then fell over. Zoe returned to her normal shape. She stood over the robot and, with a grin, reformed her right hand into a pair of garden shears.

“Hmmmph! This is what you get for picking on girls!” She stretched her arm down and snipped the robot's neck, causing the now processor-less body to power down.

Meanwhile, Flower Power had struggled to her feet just as a robot arrived to finish the job that the laser blast had started.

“Oh, hello!” smiled Flower Power, “Would you like to engage in a consciousness-raising dialogue?”

The robot responded by wrapping its powerful metal arms around the hippie's slender form, squeezing with all its might. Flower Power grunted.

“Ooof! Um, while I appreciate the loving-kindness of the symbolic gesture you are trying to make, I think you're doing it in a way that isn't totally conscious of the harm you may be inadvertently causing to others. Didn't anyone ever tell you that you can't hug a child with nuclear arms?”

Flower Power strained, and flexed, and with a mighty *KRAAANG!* her arms burst outward, sending the robot's arms flying in both directions. The robot stared at its empty sockets, dumbfounded. Flower Power smiled at it, warmly.

“Here, let me show you how to express loving oneness.” She wrapped her arms around the robot, closed her eyes, and squeezed.

*KREE-EEE-EEEEEEEK!* The robot's torso was crushed like an empty soda can, and the robot powered down, its electronics irreparably smashed. Flower Power frowned as she looked at her compacted metal friend.

“Bummer.”

“Is that all of them?” asked Jacky.

“I'm pretty sure they're all gone,” said Zoe.

“Please, don't everyone fall over themselves thanking me for taking out most of the robots!” said Velvet Glove.

“Technically, the word 'most' implies a majority. You eliminated five out of the twelve robots. While that is more than any other individual team member, it is a plurality, not a majority,” corrected Mind Mistress.

“Thank you, because that grammatical distinction was the real point of what I was saying,” Velvet Glove was about ready to use her super strength to see how far she could launch her green-skinned companion.

“You're welcome,” smirked Mind Mistress. Her teammates had come to assume that Mind Mistress was incapable of grasping the subtleties of Twentieth Century Human communication, like sarcasm. It was an assumption Mind Mistress was happy to cultivate. In point of fact, she just enjoyed being a smart-ass.

“So sad...” said Flower Power wistfully.

Everyone stared at Flower Power, mystified.

“They just seemed really friendly!” she shrugged, “I wish we could have gotten to know their souls a bit better.”

Suppressing the urge to engage further with Flower Power's particular brand of looniness, Jacky turned around and shouted, addressing their captor:

“We beat your stupid robots, whoever you are!”

“I thought you might. It took longer than expected, though, soooo not super impressed right now. Anyhow, you're on your own to get out of there.”

The heroines looked around. Other than the scrapped robots and the ladder they entered on, the only remarkable feature of the room was a steel door in the far wall.

Velvet Glove sniffed. “I guess I'll take care of the door. Again. I don't know why I don't go solo...” She stomped over to the door, reared her right fist back, then slammed it forward.

*SPLORP!*

Instead of deforming the door or sending it flying backwards, Velvet Glove's fist was absorbed into it. Her right hand was now buried wrist-deep in the metal door.

“What the?!” She shouted, pulling back as hard as she could. Her fist remained embedded in the door. No matter how much force she exerted, the best she could do was to move her hand backwards a few inches, bringing the pooled metal with it, before it sprung back to where it was. “I'm stuck!”

“The observable circumstances suggest that the viscous metal is stuck to your glove. Simply remove your hand from the glove and you will be free,” Mind Mistress offered.

“I am not taking off my glove! It's my signature accessory! What if we finish here and have a press conference after? It'd ruin my brand image!”

“I know!” Zoe shouted. She metamorphosed into a long, skinny rope, then tied one end firmly around Velvet Glove's waist.

“Eee-yuck! Please don't touch me!” shouted Velvet Glove.

“Come on, everyone! Grab onto me and pull!” Zoe said. The other heroines realized this wasn't actually a bad idea. They each took hold of Zoe's rope-like body and began heaving, first Flower Power, then Bronco Buster, then Jacky, with Mind Mistress bringing up the rear.

“One, two, three, heave!” shouted Jacky.

The heroines, including Velvet Glove, pulled backwards with all their might. Velvet Glove's fist slowly pulled back from the door, inch by inch, bringing a rising mound of the liquid metal with it. The metal still clung tenaciously to her wrist. The heroines managed to pull Velvet Glove back a full foot before their momentum slowed to a stand still. The Femme Defenders were sweating and straining, trying futilely to gain ground. Then-

*Fwip!* *WHUMP!*

The knot into which Zoe had tied herself slipped loose, untying the rubber heroine and sending the four unbound heroines clattering backwards. Without her comrades pulling her backwards, Velvet Glove flew forward into the liquid metal door.

“Oopsie!” said Zoe, laughing nervously, “I guess I'm not so good with knots!”

“Geff meff oufff offff heerffff!!!” screamed Velvet Glove, whose front half was now embedded in the door. Her legs were spread, her left arm splayed outward and upward, right arm wedged in front of her. Her double-slit dress dangled down between her legs.

“Ummm.... Wow. So... Anyone else have any ideas?” asked Jacky. She filed the image of the stuck Velvet Glove away for later fond reminiscence, but for now she kept herself focused on the pressing matter of getting the snooty heroine back into action.

“I left my equipment upstairs in the warehouse. However, even with my full lab here it would likely take a few hours to analyze this substance and synthesize a solvent. Do you think you can hold on that long, Velvet Glove?” said Mind Mistress.

“Ffffck Yoofff!” came the reply.

They looked around at each other. With Velvet Glove that deeply embedded, nobody could think of anything that wouldn't at least require touching the strange stuff, and none of them wanted to volunteer to get stuck as well. Zoe, in particular, sat on the ground hugging her knees, looking abashed that her idea had only made things worse.

“I see you've become acquainted with my patented Stucktonite door. And now you've been stuck tonight in it! Heeheeheeheehee!” announced the voice.

Velvet Glove grumbled incoherently in reply.

“A little more constructive criticism? That's a stupid name,” Jacky said.

“Pfft, like Flower Power or Jacky-of-All-Trades is any better. Aaaaanyhow, enough playing. I'll be taking Velvet Glove now.”

“What?!” said most of the heroines in unison.

“Wfff?!” said Velvet Glove.

Before their eyes, the door melted out of its molded shape, flowed over Velvet Glove's body, and formed into a perfect silver sphere, interrupted only by Velvet Glove's head, which stuck out of the top.

“What the?! What are you doing to me?! What is- Oh! Ooo! Don't touch that! What are- Ahh!” The ball jiggled and rumbled; clearly there was something going on beneath the sphere's placid surface. At last-

*Splort!* The ball spat out a golden belt. Then-

*Splort!* *Splort!* A pair of purple boots. Finally-

*Splort!* A bolt of purple fabric shot out, then drifted gracefully to the ground.

There was a moment of silence as Velvet Glove looked at the fabric, then blushed, speechless for once in her life.

Zoe furrowed her brow, then, “Oh my God! Is that your costume?! Are you naked in there?!” Velvet Glove's cheeks turned a brighter shade of red.

“I'll just take those...” said the voice. A panel on the ceiling opened up and a large hose with a nozzle like a vacuum cleaner descended, quickly sucking up the scattered pieces of Velvet Glove's costume, then returning to the ceiling.

“And now I'll take you!” A trap door swung open beneath Velvet Glove, sending her plummeting into darkness.

“AAAAAAAAAAAAaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhh!!!” The door slammed shut behind her, leaving the five remaining Femme Defenders to contemplate her fate.