A Week

Porkum answered her question with a question.

"When was your last period?"

Sue Storm's heart skipped a beat. Her eyes went wide as she took in his meaning. He couldn't—he wouldn't—

"T-two weeks ago," she said. The words came out before she could think to say anything else. Her head swam, suddenly dizzy.

"Which means we have about a week," he said. His snout snuffled. "I figured as much. You have that...smell. Now go pack."

Sue Storm kept two to-go bags packed. A smaller one for S.H.I.E.L.D. jobs, which might last a day or two, and a larger gym bag for normal Fantastic Four adventures, that might last weeks. She paused as she picked up the bag, as her conscience warred against the chemical adoration that filled her brain.

H.E.R.B.I.E. interrupted her inner struggle.

"Mrs. Richards? Are you departing?"

"Yes, H.E.R.B.I.E.," she said with a gulp. "Something...something's come up. I'll be gone for a week."

The small robot had no room for judgment. He accepted her words readily.

"Do you have any message for Dr. Richards?"

Sue's mouth was dry. She wanted to tell him everything. She didn't dare tell him anything.

"Tell him—tell him I love him. And I'll be back."

No tears streamed down the Invisible Woman's face as she took the elevator down to meet Porkum. Her heart warred with elation at going away with her lover, and bitterness at this ultimate betrayal. Because what she dared not tell Reed was that while his wife might return to the Baxter Building, she wouldn't be alone.

Porkum took her bag. They walked, arm and arm, down those streets. No one dared accost them, but Sue saw the eyes upon them. Cold, calculating, disdainful. A woman like her with a big brute like that? They were an odd couple to be sure. Yet with each step Sue took away from the Baxter Building, it felt like she was leaving her old life behind. What awaited her in Porkum's lair she didn't know.

He took her coat from her in the lobby. Then the rest of her clothes. They walked naked down the stairs, through the kitchen. Porkum's lair had been cleaned in his absence; the food containers, empty bottles, and cigar butts gone; the matress shoved back into place and made with fresh sheets; the jizz stains wiped from every surface. It felt, to Sue, almost impersonal now. Like walking into a freshly cleaned hotel room.

Then Porkum caught her wrist and tossed her on the bed.

"Ass in the air," he ordered.

With pathetic eagerness, Sue Storm moved to comply. Her knees balanced on the edge of the bed, her hands grabbed fistfuls of the sheets to brace herself. She looked back, a strange nervous twitch in her stomach. As if she couldn't believe that someone was actually going to breed her. Normally, she and Reed were so careful. BUt they hadn't made love in so long—and Sue had stopped her birth control—and now, in hindsight, that felt like the damndest of all mistakes.

For a moment, Porkum stared at the sight of the blonde goddess who presented her pink twat to him. She was already hot and ready, a clear drop of glistening wetness hung suspended from her labia, to form a damp spot on the clean sheet below. His massive balls rose and fell as he built up a charge.

It wasn't just a matter of volume. Porkum was sure of his ability to breed any bitch that walked, crawled, swam, or flew on this or any other Earth. Yet the fertilized egg might not take. The body might reject it. The Invisible Woman had a history of difficulty conceiving, miscarriages, hard pregnancies. And if he was going to break her marriage, he needed this bitch bred proper.

He'd talked to Doom about that.

"We're going to be here a week," he said as he stepped forward, and rubbed his soft, swollen glans against her cunny. "But it may seem like longer. You're not going to leave here until you're knocked up. Understand?"

"Yes," Sue said softly, her voice shaking with excitement and apprehension. "Yes!"

In Latveria, Doctor Doom watched the pig-man push the first few inches of his cock into Sue Storm's eager cunt. She was like an animal when under the effect of Porkum's pheromones—a fitting mate. His brown eyes watched as the wife of his enemy cuckolded him, and the hidden sensors in the room monitored the pair's vitals. The floor beneath them hummed with barely suppressed power. Doom's time platform lay ready. If, at the end of a week, the mutant had not managed the task...then they would be sent back. As many times as necessary. Susan Storm's vagina would be flooded with cum daily until her pregnancy was confirmed. To the outside world, it would be a matter of seven days. For those two, it could mean months of constant carnality, cut off from the outside world. A hell or paradise of lust.

Porkum was a creature of sexual excess. He, Doom was certain, would emerge from the confinement psychologically intact. Yet Sue Storm had friends, family, her children. Doom wondered how Sue Storm would endure this incessant sexual congress—especially when, and if, she tried to call a halt. For Porkum would not stop. Not even when she was sore. Not even when she begged. The Latverian monarch was certain of that, as well.

Doom hardened his heart to watch, to bear witness. It was the least he could do on behalf of Sue Storm's suffering.