Sue Leaves The Box For Later...But Malice Has Other Plans

With a sigh, Sue Storm carried the box of chocolates and put them in the fridge. All the way in the back, where she couldn't reach them easily without using her powers. She had learned, over a lifetime of dieting, that it was important to put objects of temptation out of the way if possible. Every extra little bit of difficulty it took to get to them made it less likely that Sue would slip up and indulge.

With Porkum's bonbons safely tucked away, Sue Storm carried on with the rest of her day. A video chat with her kids; in which Agatha Harkness looked surprisingly youthful for a change. A pre-recorded message from Reed, Johnny, and Ben, who had found a trace of the extradimensional radioactive material that Sue had been exposed to—although, weirdly, it was a completely different dimension than the one which their robotic quarry seemed to be fleeing towards.

Still no word from the Avengers, or the X-Men. It was one of those periodic times when every costumed crusader on the planet seemed to be busy, except for Sue herself, who was stuck in her tower with a gammy leg.

"I hope this isn't one of those cosmic events," Sue muttered to herself. "Although come to think of it, would be nice to not have to participate in one of those for a change."

The nurse came by in the afternoon, to take Sue's vitals and change her dressing. The heroine was so starved for human contact that she kept her talking for half an hour—and even got her name. Georgia Jenkins. Yet Georgia had her own life, her own family to see to.

So Sue Storm was left with another lonely night. A quiet dinner by herself. On her tablet, she downloaded a fat Gothic novel, and read until the drowsiness of the old Carl Grosse's prose saw her nod off. Lights out. Head to pillow. Another day spent, and the night a welcome time of rest, and healing...

In Latveria, Doctor Doom stared at the biochemical analysis of Porkum's essence. Like a true pig, his testicles were massive and produced semen in vast quantities; unlike a pig, the purpose of much of the sperm and associated fluid produced was not impregnation. Doom studied with meticulous care the aberrant behavior of the mutated spermatozoa, the weird chemicals excreted in the seminal fluid, with an eye toward a deeper understanding of how Porkum's powers worked, and more importantly, what their effect would be on Sue Storm.

Rather than try to impregnate the target, the majority of Porkum's sperm were designed to attack and bond with individual cells, much like a virus. One creampie would transform the internal tissues of the victim. Doom had little wonder that, after a few such infectious assaults, the individual could take Porkum's massive manhood into holes formerly too small and tight to accommodate them. His seed was like an invasive species that transformed the host to be more receptive. The chemical environment would shift. Ovulation would become more likely, and successful impregnation chances increased—and beyond that, Doom suspected that a long-term relationship would alter the women further. Potentially until they became like Porkum himself.

Before the midnight hour, Doom knew more about how Porkum worked than the mutant pig-man did himself.

In Porkum's own dimension, Doom knew, he was nearly unstoppable. Yet the strange forces that influenced that realm had untold eons to predispose the heroines to be weak to the particular abilities that Porkum's seed possessed. Yet Doom's interest was more focused on the mind-altering chemicals in Porkum's seminal fluid. The change that Doom made to sneak Porkum's product past the Baxter Building's sensors killed most of the sperm, slowed down the infectious transformation—and Susan Storm would be ingesting the bonbons orally, not shoving them into any other orifice.

Doom watched in simulation as the extracts from Porkum's seed caused neurological changes in the victim. They were nearly identical to the neural patterns Doom had observed when a woman fell in love, or received a hit of an addictive stimulant. For women of his own dimension, whose neural receptors were designed to bond with the chemicals, the effect would be more potent and swift.

Yet for Sue Storm—Doom's fingers touched the keyboard, altered a few variables. Ran a complex simulation that showed what appeared, to the Latverian monarch's eyes, like the reverse effect of that class of **** popularly known as anti-psychotics...

In the dark, Malice's eyes opened, and she knew herself.

For a moment, she simply waited there, in the dark. Sue's repressed self, the splinter-personality which had only ever briefly taken control, and kept repressed by the medication that Sue would never admit to her adoring fans or children she took. A secret lifelong battle against schizophrenia that had begun due to Psycho-Man and Hatemonger's manipulations. Sue Storm's dirty little secret.

Her hands ran down her body. Nails scraped her inner thighs, and even the pain of her wounded leg was like a balm to the fractured soul. She so loved pain. Malice loved the pleasure that came from receiving it almost as much as she loved the pleasure of dishing it out.

Malice rose from the bed, and hobbled forward. She knew that her re-emergence was not an accident, and was no doubt temporary. Unless she could assure that her other-half stayed quiescent.

The blonde moved to the fridge and dug out the box of chocolates. The dark delights that had set her free. She licked her lips in anticipation—but she had another, bolder plan for these. Malice had no intention of going back down into the dark without a fight.

"H.E.R.B.I.E.," she said, as she pulled a bonbon from the container, and her voice was lower and more gravelly than Susan Storm's normal soft voice, as Malice used her throat muscles more. "I want you to take this to the lab and have it analyzed. Look for any unusual chemicals. I want to know if it can be synthesized."

"Yes, Mrs. Richards," H.E.R.B.I.E. confimed, as he accepted the bonbon.

From a drawer, Malice drew forth a pair of scissors. It was time to update Sue Storm's wardrobe.