Porkum Whores Sue Storm Out

There was an alley off Lenox Avenue in Harlem. A door that led to a small room. There was a hole in the wall of the room, and a woman's backside was pointing out of it. Someone had kindly left a jar of vaseline and a plastic cylinder of clean-wipes. Condoms could be purchased from a machine mounted to the wall, but weren't required. Someone had driven a small hook into the wall, and a sharpie dangled from a string.

In case anyone wanted to make their mark.

Men came up and paid money with the minimum number of words. The price was competitive; the cunt might be young or old, tight or loose, clean or go-get-your-shots. No girlfriend service. No illusions of anything except a transaction. You paid by the minute, and at the end of the time, a man with a gun might **** you out, dick in hand, to wank against an alley wall.

There was a white woman there tonight. Little golden hairs on her pale pussy. Soft, wide hips and buttocks. No moans made it through the wall, but there was a line of punts that filled the alley and spilled out onto the street. A runner had to pay a couple of beat cops to look the other way. For five or ten minutes at a time, men walked inside. The cunt was already dripping with spunk, the pussy absolutely dripping with it. Someone had started a tally on her buttocks. Others had added little excited notes.

BREEDER BITCH. BBC QUEEN. WHITE WHORE FOR BLACK COCK.

Men entered. Young. Old. The door shut behind them. Time already ticking. Quick as they could, they pulled their cocks out and got them hard. The air inside reeked of sex, a puddle on the floor. The woman wouldn't respond if her ass was slapped, but there had been a warning not to scratch or hurt her - and the big man at the door, behind the man taking the money, had a pistol in a shoulder holster, flashed it to every punter.

So their hands pulled the labia aside, to let more spunk drip out of the used slit. Maybe they put on a condom, most often they didn't. Just pushed their cock into that tight, wet, hot hole...and pounded away. On the wall above the ass, someone had left a photo of the Invisible Woman, blonde hair and blue eyes, the picture of the perfect super-MILF.

Some of them fixed on that image as they pumped away, balls slamming hard as they fucked quick, **** to cum before their time was up.

Some pulled out. The ass was painted with dried jizz. It rolled down the buttocks in thick drops.

Most didn't.

With a grunt, they'd push deep. Blast out all they had into those hot, hungry depths. Millions of sperm looking for a single goal.

Like a lottery looking for a winner.

Time enough for most to catch their breath. Tuck their dick away. Then...

"Time's up."

Porkum was on the other side of the wall. Watched on a monitor tied to a microscopic camera as each punter came up and emptied their pathetic load into her depths. The vacant look hadn't left Sue Storm's eyes. She stared forward, basically catatonic, tied in place, as Porkum rubbed his cock against her face and lips.

Doctor Doom's hologram appeared next to him.

"You have incapacitated the Invisible Woman," the Latverian monarch had. "Why whore her out to this rabble? Why not auction her off to supervillains? Certainly, many would pay a fortune for her, even in this diminished state."

Porkum scowled.

"It's no fun when she's like this. And it's not about the money. I mean, the money is nice, but think about what it'll be like when I dump her back home, with half of Harlem swimmin' around in her womb. What will that do to Richards?"

Doom inclined his head. His mind could easily imagine the scenario.

"I hope you are correct," he said. "I am afraid this operation may attract...unwanted attention."

"Like who?" Porkum scoffed.