Sue Storm Can't Adjust

After hours of medical analysis and care, including Reed Richard's dermal regenerator, Sue Storm was physically better in body.

Yet not in mind.

The children did not see her at dinner. Reed carried a tray into their bedroom to find her on the bed, an invisible force field moving in and out of her pussy. She fell on the food ravenously, the pumping of the cock-shaped object never stopping, even though he noted her labia looked darker and more protuberant than before.

In the days that followed, Sue rarely left the bedroom. She didn't go to the gym, abandoned her old schedule of dieting. Emergency sirens saw the Invisible Woman retreat to her closet, scared, four fingers stuffing her pussy because that was the only thing that could calm her down, the only thing that made sense.

"Darling," Reed said. "This is Dr. Samson. He's here to talk to you."

The power dampeners had been installed in the room for Doc Samson's safety. It meant Sue had to use her own fingers, or whatever sex toys she had hidden in her closet. There were more of them than Reed Richards had ever imagined.

"Susan," the green-haired doctor said to the woman sitting upright in the bed. His eyes took in her bloated appearance, even with the loose-fitting robe. The right hand he couldn't see, the constant movement. "How do you feel today?"

Her face twitched.

"Like a dry cumrag," she rasped. "I need a cock. He hasn't fucked me yet today and that's not right, it's not right, it means he has a surprise in store, maybe the bat this time, maybe—"

"Who hasn't had sex with you?" Samson interrupted. "Your husband?"

They were alone in the room, though Reed was listening.

"No no no no, sex with Reed isn't fucking it's making love, it's sweet it's gentle I can't I can't I can't cum with him, my husband, he doesn't fuck me, he never fucks me, I beg him to fill the hole inside me but he can't do it! It's never big enough, hard enough, deep enough, fast enough, he treats me like a princess, a queen, he loves me but I'm not worthy of love I'm a slut I'm a slut I'm a slut I'm a cumdump and he hasn't cum in me in days and it eats it eats and eats at me I need it its making me crazy because no matter how much I eat it's not enough never enough please fuck me fuck me fuck me—"

She had thrown off the bedsheet then and spread her labia, the gaping cunt oozing and throbbing, desperate to be filled.

Doctor Samson offered his considered verdict, after three hours of talking to her.

"Severe post-traumatic stress disorder. She was sexually assaulted extensively, and her mind can't adjust from the fight-or-flight instinct. Everything is tied up in her perception of herself as worthless except as a receptacle for lust," he said. "It's not just traumatic memories; the experience has changed the neurological pathways of her brain. We'll need to try different medications, therapy..."

Reed Richards was silent as Doctor Samson listed all the things wrong with his wife. There was nothing there he didn't know. Mister Fantastic's days had not been idle. He had absorbed the literature of psychology, psychiatry, and neural biology and biochemistry. In days he had become one of the foremost experts on the subject on the planet.

Tonight, he would hack into S.H.I.E.L.D.'s dark archives, the ones they thought they kept safe. Where they kept the specifications for technologies they did not understand, or whose ethical implications were too terrible to consider. Weapon X memory manipulation. Neural implants. Brainwashing.

"Thank you, Doctor," Reed Richards said after he finished. "I've already been making inquiries. We'd like to treat Sue at home."

"Of course," Samson said. "Given her powers. She could be a danger to herself and others, if she were released in this condition."

Reed Richards nodded. He did not smile. He was thinking of a bright, smiling face of a young woman on her wedding day...and the mewling, oversexed creature in the bedroom they were supposed to share.

He would make Sue Storm whole again.

He would fix her.