Sue Cannot Get The Image of Porkum's Cock Out Of Her Mind

In front of the dining room table, Sue Storm sat rigid in her chair. Around her, things floated. A can of chicken noodle soup popped open and poured itself into a small pot. A packet of saltines floated down to the table next to her, and the bottle of antibiotics that had come in the mail. To an outsider, it might have seemed almost like mindless activity. Sue's hands gripped the arms of her chair intently, knuckles white. Her eyes stared out, unseeing, as the bubbling pot set itself down in front of her.

An invisible spoon lifted soup to her mouth. Saltines. Pills. Sometimes, her rigid body seemed to convulse. Her nostrils flared. The soup spilled over her mouth, down her chin. She shook, then, and the veins popped out on her forehead with the effort of her concentration.

For that was what it was. An old exercise in the mastery of her powers. The reliance on her invisible **** fields and nothing else. One of the ways Sue had trained herself, in the old days.

Slowly, Sue regained control of herself. An invisible hand held the napkin that wiped her chin. Took the empty pot to the sink and began to wash it. Through it all, Sue sat rigid. Her whole body seemed super sensitive and exhausted, but it was her mind that plagued her. The image of him. Porkum's monstrous appendage. It was impossible not to think of it. To try not to think of it. To distract herself.

So Sue focused on what she could control. She let her body go limp, and let invisible hands lift her up and carry her into the bedroom.

"I do not share your conviction that Sue Storm will break so easily," Doctor Doom's voice echoed through the veritable sty that was Porkum's lair. Discarded fast-food containers and bottles of **** occupied heaps. The mattress had been pulled off the bed, and soiled bedding itself torn into strips. The fat, big-bellied pig-man sat atop the stained mattress as a barbarian kind upon a stolen throne. In one hand, a cigar burned. The other idly ran up and down the length of his peculiarly flexible prick.

"You ever been shot by a bullet?" Porkum said. The pig-man held the cigar with his lips and reached down with one thick nail to indicate a circular scar on his left thigh. "Docs can dig the bullet out, but not all of it. There's always some of it left behind. Something you just got to live with, that bit of lead in your body."

Doom understood immediately. "The defraudium bullet. You believe traces of it remain in Sue Storm's body? That it will wear down her body and mind?"

"Now you're getting it," Porkum grinned hugely. "It all works together, see? A little weakness. A little loneliness. A taste of me. A picture she can't get out of her head. I might not have a degree in head-shrinkin', but I've been breaking bitches all my life. The powerful ones, they don't know how to deal with failure. One crack is all it takes. All that pride is built on success. Without their power, they're helpless. One little failure leads to another, and another. This one is almost ripe. You keep her friends away a little longer, and I'll do the rest. Until she comes beggin' to me!"

On the bed, in the dark. Sleep would not come. Every time Sue Storm closed her eyes, she could see it there, like a great pink worm. She pulled sweat-stained clothes off her body, to lie naked atop the bedding.

Once again, she tried to focus. Her powers—the old exercises she had developed when she had been the Invisible Girl, just figuring things out, before she married Reed. In the dark, invisible hands touched her body. Held her down. It was like a dozen invisible strangers. Sue felt the panic start to rise, but now she welcomed it. Anything to distract her from that image, that photo. That monstrous, cum-stained fuck-muscle.

Her breasts heaved, and in the light that spilled from the window Sue could see her own breasts, the thick nipples jutted out swollen and hard. She **** herself to think. Willed the invisible fingers to caress, massage. With her own hands by her side, she relied on them to do everything for her. Even...even that...

An invisible hand clasped her pussy with a wet squelch. Invisible fingers gripped her nipples, tight enough to make Sue gasp in pain. Her wounded leg throbbed, and the fever burned inside her body, her head. Anything, anything was better than to succumb to that image in her head.

The heat built inside of her. Sue writhed against her invisible hands. She moaned, softly at first, and then louder as her invisible hand rubbed against her sex. The excitement and anticipation built and built. She tried to build a fantasy in her mind. Faceless strangers held her down. Had their way with her. Prepared to...prepared to penetrate her...

As one finger womed its way in her tight, clenched cunny, a spasm shook Sue Storm's leg. For a moment, she lost all control. The invisible hands disappeared. She moaned in greater helplessness now that she was momentarily deprived of her powers than she had been when held bound to the bed. All control was gone from her as she curled onto her unwounded side, hands between her legs. She panted and grunted like an animal as she rubbed furiously at her aching sex, the heat and exhaustion in her body built and built.

Sue Storm cried out in ecstasy, in horror, in frustration, in exultation, in embarrassment, in shame.

Because as she came, the Invisible Woman pictured Porkum's cock.