Revenge of the League 19

Freshly sedated before her pod was unsealed, Miss Britain was only half aware of being lifted out by cold steel hands, her limp body carried to a room full of bright white light.  After an eternity of being invasively probed and prodded in the centre of a cluster of blinking, beeping machinery, she thought that they were done with her when she was moved again and deposited on a flat plastic table.  But then there was a fresh set of hands running over her body, rubbing something sticky and warm into every inch of her skin.  Unable to resist or even drag her eyes open, she could only stir and murmur in feeble protest.

She was starting to regain a little of her strength and alertness when metal clamps seized her by the upper arms and lifted her bodily into the air.  Helpless, she was transported down a long corridor by a compact little black robot which ran on rails.

Double doors hissed open in their path.  Miss Britain had thought that she was prepared for the worst.  She had anticipated the hatred and mockery of the League of Fear's vile members.

Nothing could have prepared her for what awaited her in this room.