As Soon As Her Pussy Heals

It took an extended effort of will for Susan Storm to refrain from touching herself for the next few days. She threw herself into her daily life. Light exercise. Eating right—she didn't even miss Porkum's bonbons. Calls with her children and even with Reed and the others. Visits from the nurse to check her wounded leg.

To Nurse Jenkins, Sue confided that she enjoyed the alone time, the peace and quiet from being a wife and mother and adventurer. Was allowed this space and time to heal. The Black woman had smiled and thought she understood.

The bruises around her breasts and pussy turned blue, and then yellow. The scabs on her labia itched, and Sue would sit bottomless in agitation as she sought online to see if there was any way to speed the process. Yet there was none. Only time would heal some wounds.

So Sue Storm waited. She spent her time on other things. Like thinking about Porkum. About what she would do, the next time they met. How much of his cock she could get in her, before her labia split, or the monstrous beast fucked her raw and threatened to batter her cervix until she screamed in pain.

At night, Sue would lie in bed, her shift soaked with sweat. She quivered with anticipation.

"Soon," she whispered to the darkness as her pussy throbbed. "Soon."

Ten days, and Porkum's phone rang. He glanced at the burner phone. An unlisted number. That meant she was still being cautious. He let it ring three times, then picked it up.

"When? Where?"

The voice was soft, husky, with an undercurrent of raw desperation.

"Midnight. My place," Porkum said. Then he grinned. "Wear something sexy."

Sue Storm applied the nail polish carefully. Normally she only wore a clear coat. The vivid red, however, matched the red dress that she had picked out for the night. Calf-length, cinched tight at the waist, with a long open cleavage and bare shoulders. Normally, Sue would wear a top under that dress. Not tonight. No top, no bra, no underwear. The two-inch red heels were the tallest Sue owned.

If there was anyone who watched Four Freedoms Plaze in the hour before midnight, they would have seen a vision in red, pale and elegant step out through the glass doors—only to vanish from sight. Sue moved unseen through the darkened city, the air cool on her skin as she floated above the streets, to retrace a route she had been once before. Back to the former pork-packing warehouse, which was Porkum's lair.

He had left a light on in the office. The door unlocked. No breaking and entering tonight. Sue was expected. Welcomed.

Down the stair. Her left leg ached a little, but her pussy tingled as she caught the first hint of that scent—his scent. It grew stronger as she moved through the kitchen area. The door to Porkum's den was open.

The smell was stronger with every step she took towards it. Not just his smell, but the other smells that went with him. The place was still littered with cigar butts, empty food containers, empty bottles of ****. Tobacco, stale malt liquor, dull grease and rotting food. She was amazed there weren't ants and cockroaches. Her body trembled with every step. A heat built inside her body, and Sue Storm could feel her face flush. She was already wet and ready for him, the top of her thighs damp.

She stepped across the threshold and stared at the absolute pigsty.

Never even heard him, as he stepped out of the shadows behind her and clutched her shoulders. Sue Storm nearly jumped out of her skin. When Porkum dipped his head to let a long, pink tongue slide over her neck, Sue leaned into it, head to once side, blonde hair fell to reveal more. His thick pink fingers plucked at the red dress. Ran down the cleavage, pulled them aside to showcase her still-proud breasts with the jutting brown nipples. Then further down. She whimpered as his finger slid down to where the dress was cinched about her waist.

What happened next was too fast. Porkum must have picked her up and tossed her on the bed. Before Sue knew it she was face-down on the filthy mattress, her skirt was bunched about her waist, and Porkum's snout pushed against her asshole. The hot tongue lapped at her cunny. The sodden slit was already wet, but Sue reached back and drew her labia wide, begged for him to fill her, to split her open.

He teased her. Lapped at her labia. His thick saliva, laden with his chemicals, drove her into a frenzy. She muffled her first scream with Porkum's dirty bedsheets.

Then the tongue slipped up and over her asshole with a flourish. Something soft and spongy pressed against her cunt. So gasped and turned her head.

"Please!" she whispered, voice tense with need. "Give it to me! Fuck me!"

Porkum pushed forward. Fingers slippery with her juices as he eased the tip of himself inside of her, where the tight twat muscles of the Invisible Woman squeezed and compressed that floppy first few inches. Yet the more her pushed, the more cock went into her. Harder. Thicker. Sue gasped in mingled pleasure and pain as she sought to push back against those thrusts. The pig-man's hands clamped onto her hips. She couldn't see the gleam in his eye as he thrust forward, hard enough to hit the back of her tunnel, like a punch. So thick that it stretched her to the breaking point. Faster and harder, and Sue began to scream—to howl—and she reached her crescendo before his, her whole body seized in a rictus of agonized ecstasy as he pounded away, faster now, until with a roar he thrust too greedily and too deep.

Something hot spurted against the heroine's unprotected cervix. She collapsed onto the mattress, panting and momentarily spent. His long dong was still inside of her as it pumped rope after rope of that terribly virile seed into her fertile cleft.

"Well," he chuckled. "That's good for a warm-up. Let's see how much cock you can take by the end of the night."