Locked in her chains, Supergirl was frog-marched by the guards through the halls of the underground prison and through a door labeled “Intake."
What followed was series of humiliations each more degrading than the last.
First, the guards locked a metal collar around her neck.
A small red light on the front of the collar flicked on the second it was snapped closed, signaling it was active.
“All inmates of this facility are required to wear a suppression collar at all times,” the guard explained, “The collar has the same power-dampeners built into it as your transport shackles.
Also, it has a tracking device, allowing us to monitor your exact location.”
The collar wasn’t choking her, but it was tight and it was impossible to ignore the feeling of the metal circlet around her neck.
She was visibly shocked at the comment she’d have to wear it at all times.
Satisfied the collar was active and suppressing her powers, the guards unlocked Supergirl’s wrist and ankle restraints.
She eagerly stood up straight, no longer having to stoop, and rubbed her limbs.
“Thank you,” she said to the guards, truly grateful her limbs were at least free of the constricting chains.
“Heh, don’t think you’ll be thanking us in a minute,” one of the guards, who seemed to be in charge, laughed, “We didn’t remove those for your comfort.
Only to make the next part easier.”
Supergirl wondered what he meant as a large vacuum-seal storage bag was thrown at her feet. She didn't have long to wonder what it was for as the next command came.
“Strip down! All of your clothes off and in that bag, now!”