Reed Does Everything Sue Asks, But She Is Still Unhappy

Reed Richards did his level best to treat his wife like a cumrag. He slammed his cock into her face until his balls, bloated by his stretching powers, bounced against her chin. Her plumped-up lips stretched wide as he forced his dick to be thicker, long, until the head never left her throat and she thrashed feebly, fighting for air.

Nor did he stop once he had blown his first load.

Her nails dug into his thighs, tears in her eyes as she tried to lose herself in the fantasy of being used. Of being his sexual plaything, a doll for his pleasure, a mighty heroine reduced to a mere object. Mister Fantastic, living up to every inch of his name, spent the entire afternoon slamming his engorged man-meat into her facial fuckhole. She grew queasy with all the sperm that slid down her throat, and when she at last began to tire, he pulled back just long enough to spit a bitter load, thick as any he had impregnated her with, right onto her tongue—and he made her swallow it, his long, rubbery fingers clenching her mouth shut and ordering her as if she was some disobedient whore he had paid good money to swallow his seed.

He did everything she asked him to. Wiped his cock across her new plump lip-pillows. Slapped her tits. Let the weight and heat of his balls press against her eyes as she sucked greedily for the last bit of sperm at the end of his limp prick.

When they were done, Sue kissed him tenderly, and Reed responded with all the passion of a couple on their honeymoon, not those who had suffered the slings and arrows of decades of marriage and two children. She left with the taste of his cock filling her mouth, jaw sore, makeup a mess, and went invisible as soon as she stepped into the hallway so that none of the children would see their mother like the oral slut she had been, for three glorious hours.

And yet...

"I thought it would be enough," Sue Storm confessed. "Reed, bless his heart, he tries to do it all for me. I've swallowed more semen in the last week than in the last ten years of marriage. Yet I...I don't...it still feels like an act we're putting on, you know?"

"That's because it is an act," Dr. Stone said, and her eyes glowed as the gravimetric pulse slammed into the Invisible Woman's brain. "You're still playing it safe, only sucking off your husband. You need to go further. To really be the bimbo of your dreams..."

Sue Storm was listening. Receptive. She had gone this far. What harm could there be in going a little further?