Fantastic Four of the Zone: Virus and Maiden

THE FANTASTIC FOUR: HEROES OF THE NEGATIVE ZONE!

BENTLEY WITTMAN — THE WIZARD

He’s the architect of chaos turned keeper of order. The mind that built a thousand weapons now builds myths. Clad in regal purple armor with a helm that gleams like a second face, Bentley Wittman commands not through strength — but through genius and fear. The Zone’s rulers call him Director. His team calls him Wizard. He calls them... necessary evils.

THE PUNISHER DROID

Cold. Relentless. Perfect. Once the herald of Galactus’ judgment, now reprogrammed and rebuilt as the Frightful Four’s enforcer. An obsidian tower of weaponized faith, its red optics burn with alien calculation.

It speaks rarely, obeys absolutely, and remembers everything. Some whisper it still dreams of annihilation. The Wizard keeps it close — just in case.

MAC GARGAN — IRON MAN

Once Scorpion. Once Venom. Now reborn as Iron Man of the Zone. Encased in the Virus Armor — a scarred, monstrous refit of War Machine tech and alien grafts —Gargan is chaos given form. He flies like a comet and fights like he’s got something to prove. The press calls him a hero.

The underworld calls him a nightmare. Sue calls him hers

SUSAN STORM — IRON MAIDEN

Former Invisible Woman. Current storm of temptation and destruction. Her armor mirrors his — sleek, violet, and wickedly feminine — but it’s her mind that cuts deepest. In a realm ruled by hunger and power, Sue has learned to weaponize both.

She fights beside Mac, sleeps beside him, and saves his life more often than she admits. Together, they’re the beating, burning heart of the Frightful Four — lovers forged in the distortion of the Zone

Heroes, villains, lovers, soldiers —

Bound by collars, contracts, and desire.

The Zone calls them saviors.

The Core Collective knows better.

They are the FANTASTIC FOUR OF THE ZONE!!

Issue #02: Virus & Maiden

Mac Gargan flew through the open space of the Negative Zone. The Zone opened beneath him like an endless bruise of purple lightning and black fire. Gargan roared forward in the retrofitted Virus Armor, his very own perverse echo of Iron Man’s war machine. It was a hulking beast of technology — plates grafted together from scavenged Stark tech, Negative Zone alloys, and the Wizard’s dark brilliance. The armor was broad at the shoulders, ribbed along the arms, painted in a violent, lust-sick shade of violet. A number four glowed white across the chestplate, mocking the legacy of Reed Richards while declaring itself part of something new. Thrusters burned blue. His visor snapped open to tactical readouts.

A strike team flanked him — the Shadow City guards, bizarre hybrids of pharaonic Egypt and plasma-era tech. Golden masks shaped like falcons and jackals gleamed against black segmented body-armor, their spears humming with ionic charge.

Beside them, high above, the Wizard cut through the air in his own armor. It was magnificent and grotesque: polished violet, ridged like beetle-shells, crowned with a massive angular helmet that stretched the silhouette of his head until it resembled a god-idol from some forgotten cult. His cape snapped in the vacuum wind. He drifted without hurry, as though the Zone itself bent around him.

Behind them, slavering and loyal, came the Punisher Drone — a winged monstrosity in chrome and bone-white plating, shaped like a mechanical skull and ribcage, eyes burning red. It trailed Gargan like a leashed warhound, its arsenal twitching and scanning for targets.

They reached the Heteropteron.

The floating fortress loomed in violet shadow, its shape like a shattered insect husk held together by negative gravity. Jagged spires jutted outward like mandibles. Balconies curved in sweeping arcs, traced with glowing glyphs of a long-extinct language. It was said to have belonged to Catastrophus, Annihilus’ general — a name spoken like thunder in the hive legions. Now the castle pulsed with Chitinauts, insectoid servitors with blade-limbs, wings buzzing, antennae twitching in one mind. They circled the invaders but did not attack; they recognized Wizard’s signature and fell back in a clicking chorus.

The strike team breached the upper tower, swept down a ribbed hallway lined with opal chitin and flowing plasma-light. They followed the heat-trace on Wizard’s readouts: Susan Storm’s

[signature.

It

](http://signature.It) led them to a suite — insectoid yet decadent, with broad honeycombed arches, a tiled pool shimmering like liquid quartz, a carved obsidian bathing chamber that smelled of oils and venom-incense.

And there — Sue.

Her skin slick, her blonde hair wild and wet, her eyes blown wide and feral with hunger.

She was astride Morg the Executioner, humping him like it was saving her life, his massive body sprawled unconscious beneath her, cock still buried inside her.

Across her face smeared the glittering red dust of the Spark — venom ground from the Crystal Spiders of Kestorus. The narcotic had turned her into a living flame of lust. She rode him even as he snored like a beast, her hips grinding, her lips parted in a moan.

The strike force burst in. The guards seized her arms, dragging her shrieking and dripping off Morg’s body. She clawed to stay on him, begged to be fucked again, but they held fast.

A heavy device clamped over Morg’s torso and with a hiss of alien alchemy his flesh froze into black crystalline ice, locking him like a monument.

The Wizard recorded notes into his wrist console. The Punisher drone hovered near, sensors flickering, tracking everything with clinical interest. “Careful, Gargan,” Wizard drawled without looking up, sensing where Mac was looking, his voice buzzing inside the helmet. “She’s drowning in Spark. You’ll want to rut her, but don’t. Not yet. That poison killed Morg’s mind long before it claimed his cock. That posoin is designed for cosmic beings. You’re only a man — she’ll burn you hollow if you give in.”

But Mac was already staring. His armor’s optics zoomed, hungry. Susan’s skin glowed with sweat, every line of her body vibrating with the narcotic’s heat.

"You'll die Gargan...surely!" Wizard added checking his readouts on Morg.

Mac looked down to see Sue crawling to him. And even bound, her hands pawed at him, claws raking for his groin-plating. "I know you want to fuck me Gargan...just do it!"

Wizard sighed. "Contain her Gargan...and yourself. Report to the mothership after she's clean." He walked down the hall with the frozen Morg on a floating table.

When the guards withdrew, Gargan stayed. His armor hissed open. He stepped out, the purple plates falling away, leaving only his scarred human frame, hard cock jutting proud.

Sue’s fingers closed around it instantly. “Let me suck you…” she begged, eyes wild. She didn't give him a chance. Her mouth on his hard swollen balls and hand shucking his hard prick.

Gargan trembled. He wanted it — wanted nothing more than to feed himself into her throat, to drive into her cunt until she screamed. But Wizard’s warning echoed.

Poison. Death.

"Oh fuck!" Mac looked down to see Sue's warm mouth slide over his prick. He wss getting his dick sucked by the Invisible Woman...a dream of most men of Earth. She was good. Too good. He pulled off. "I can't Susie...I want to but...."

Then Sue, laughing, scooped a palmful of red dust from the tiles and slammed it into Gargan’s face.

The Spark hit him like liquid fire. His cock stiffened beyond pain, his brain flooding with uncontrollable arousal. “Fuck!” he gasped — but Sue was already on her knees, her mouth sheathing him, sucking like she would pull his soul out through his cock. Her head bobbed. She laid back and her body raised on some sort of seat like protrusion. As if the walls understood. As if they were alive. In a way they were. A programmable being more like a plant than animal. Her legs spread and the shining bug seat spread with them. "Fuck me Gargan....you might never get the chance again!" She was placing hus prick near her entrance rubbing her slick slit.

'You'll die!' The Wizards words hung in his ears.

"I've had a good life!" Mac Gargan spoke out loud and pushed his prick forward. Sure, she'd. ust been fucked but damn she felt good. Tight, swollen and wet.

Sue's head fell back and her ass lifted to meet his thrust. "Oh fuck...why do you have to have a huge dick!"

Mac grabbed her hips and bega to pump into her standing up. The strange seat giving him perfect positioning. And leverage. "Luck I guess!" He joked. He was. A strange gypsy had told him to take the next job that came his way. He gave her twenty bucks for the fortune. That was on Earth. Five minutes before Wizard called him about the Zone. Best twenty bucks he'd ever spent.

He lifted Sue's legs and began to really screw her. She was screaming and soon cumming and creaming on his cock. It made him explode inside her. He laid upon her trying to kiss her. But she stopped him. "No kissing".

She pushed him back. A new seat came up under Mac before he fell back. She came up quickly and straddled him. Neither cared why the room moved with them. Too high and horny.

Sue began a slow fuck. Mac was shocked his cock was still painfully hard. "Have we ever even spoken?" She laughed.

Mac nodded. Trying to suck one of her tits. But she pushed him back. "Once when you helped Spider-Man!" He taunted her beneath her. "You grabbed my prick with your forcefueld powers!".

Sue rolled her eyes, her demeanor different than her pussy riding his prick. "In your dreams!"

Mac spanked her ass causing Sue to yelp. "You think you're better than me Susie-q?" He spanked her again. "This ain't Namor fucking you...it ain't Doctor Doom...or any other putz who wants to fuck you.'

"Kang!" Sue huffed. "Kang wants to fuck me....and Dragon Man...and Scott Lang....and Captain America." She recited their names. Heavy hitters. Not like Mac who was actually fucking her.

"Bend over!" Mac spanked her. When she hesitated he spanked harder. "Bend over!"

Sue gasped and pulled up off his dick. She bent over against the wall. She felt Gargan behind her. He slipped his cock inside her. Spanked her again. Pulled her hair and made her head fly back. "You don't fool me Susan Storm....you're just a little slut!" He spanked her causing a yelp. "And like I said it ain't Namor and it ain't Reedy boy giving you what you need!" He spanked her harder. Her ass raw. "Say it!"

Sue couldn't believe herself. Was it the drug? Or was Mac Gargan right. Another spank and her face went flush. She was cumming. "Oh god...it's Mac Gargan fuckigng me..."

"And admit it....you grabbed my cock with your witch powers!" He teased and spanked. Pulling her hair even tauter. Pushing his prick in and out.

"I did..." she admitted. "I GRABBED YOUR BIG COCK WITH MY POWERS!" She had. She felt it against her field back then. And had touched it. Felt it. Now it was inside her.

"You're just a little slut for me aren't you!" He spanked her.

"YES....OH GOD YES....I'M A LITTLE SCORPION SLUT!" She no longer even knew what she was even saying. He stuffed his cock inside her. They both came and Mac pulled her back turning her head and they kissed. Pasilsionately with tongues slapping.

They fucked everywhere. On the obsidian table. In the shimmering pool, splashing and clawing at each other. Against the chitin-ribbed walls. In the vast insect-bedroom, beneath silken sheets spun by alien larvae.

Gargan was losing the fight with the poison.

Gargan’s world collapsed to her mouth, her cunt, her ass, her hands. He passed out again and again, collapsing in blackness, only to awaken to Sue riding him, moaning, whispering, warning him through her haze:

“Drink…eat…we can’t stop or we’ll die.”

"We got time," Mac told her. He pulled her on her hands and knees to him. Entering her again.

Time blurred. They survived only by consuming each other.

Sue’s admission came with her pussy clamped on his face: “I’ve been living on your cum.” He had no choice but to return it, devouring her wetness, swallowing her slick as if it were water.

Finally, the Spark ebbed. Their bodies wrecked, dehydrated, starved — but alive. They found food. Water. Survival. Barely.

And when the haze lifted, their bond remained — not broken, but welded by excess.

Months Later

The suite was theirs now. Once alien-ornate, now ruined and lived-in. Piles of blankets stinking of sex. Crates of stolen rations. Empty vials of Spark scattered on the floor. Sheets crusted, walls stained, the air thick with the perfume of sweat and fucking. Empty alien food cartons. Panties and bras here and there.

In the center of the bed, Sue bent on all fours, tattoos curling across her back — her flesh a canvas of rebellion. Across her shoulder blades, bold and black, the words: “We Got Time.” A joke, a memory of Gargan’s first reckless quip before he’d shoved himself into her.

Gargan took her from behind, watching that tattoo as he thrust, her tits swinging, her voice ragged. “Don’t stop…don’t ever stop…”

But his comm chimed. Wizard’s voice summoned them. Another mission.

“Fuck—” Gargan muttered.

Sue turned her head, hair matted, grinning wicked. “Don’t pretend you don’t love being late.”

Across the chamber, two suits stood waiting.

Sue’s Iron Maiden armor — feminine and vicious, violet plates curved to her body, etched with black flame motifs, a helm like a smooth mask with glowing blue slits. A predator’s elegance, lethal yet erotic.

Beside it, Gargan’s Virus suit, hulking, brutal, purple like bruised flesh. Heavy shoulders, studded gauntlets, its four-emblem still glowing defiantly.

Sue groaned, peeling herself off his cock, gasping when she caught sight of the Punisher drone standing silently by the suits. It had entered without sound, watching. “What the fuck, perv!” she shouted, covering her tits and pussy with her hands, then flipping the drone off.

“It’s just a robot, Susie-cakes!” Gargan chuckled, swatting her ass. “Though yeah…biggest cockblock in the Zone.” He shook his still-hard cock like a weapon. He lit a smoke.

“I already got mine,” she smirked, stepping nude into her Iron Maiden suit. The plates folded and sealed around her, her voice shifting into a metallic growl through the speakers: “Besides, we’ve got a meeting with the Wizard.”

Gargan sealed himself into Virus armor. The thrusters roared. Together, the two purple-armored predators launched from the suite, streaking toward the orbiting warship.

The Punisher drone followed silently, its red eyes unblinking.

Sue’s laughter crackled over the shared comm. “I swear that thing watches us, Gargan.”

“Yeah," he smirked, adjusting his thrusters. “Yeah. And it’s jealous.”