Sue Storm Gets Captured By Hydro-Man

An alarm went off.

Not a world-ending catastrophe alarm, no bleep from the S.H.I.E.L.D. communicator, or an urgent blair from her Fantastic Four communicator. Sue Storm had left the Baxter Building to get a fresh croissant from the little bakery three blocks away, and someone decided to rob the jewelry store next to it.

Need to work off the croissant calories anyway, Sue Storm thought as she dashed out of the bakery, prepared to deal with thugs in ski masks with guns.

She was not prepared to step into a puddle. Or for that puddle to grow hands that caught and held her knuckles.

"What?" Sue stared down, and a face leered up at her from the water.

Sue Storm never saw Hydro-Man's accomplice. Only felt the sting of the tazer against her unprotected neck.

"...do exactly as I said. Remember, the goal is for her to lose control, not drown."

A woman's voice. Sue Storm felt herself tied to a chair, blindfolded, something hard and plastic in her mouth that pinned her tongue down, and there was something in her throat, a tube. The heroine was leaning forward, head limp. Her head pounded, but she was awake, though she didn't show it. A heavy metal collar around her neck—probably suppressing her powers. Sue tried to form an invisible knife, to cut the ropes. Nothing.

"Yeah, yeah, I got it. Lot of money for this kind of job." A more masculine voice, a distinct New Jersey accent. That would be Hydro-Man.

"And if you want to spend that money, you do your job and nothing else. No damaging the merchandise, understand?" the unseen woman said.

"Yeah, I got it."

There was a wet splatter of footprints towards her. A hand grabbed her head and chin and leaned it back. Rough hands, strong, but not ungentle. Sue felt her head lean back on a kind of cushion and realized she must be in a kind of barber's chair.

"Wakey-wakey," Hydro-Man said, as he pulled off the blindfold.

Blue eyes blinked up at him. Tawny hair, broad shoulders, a muscular build. Six-foot-two if he was an inch, and his skin had a sheen of perspiration. She glanced around and it did seem to be an abandoned barber shop, everything covered in dust.

"You look thirsty, doll," he said, as he climbed onto the counter. "But don't worry. I'm gonna help you with that."

Which is when Sue Storm realized that the object in her mouth wasn't a gag. It was a funnel. Held in place by straps. She tried to shake her head, but the ropes holding her were too tight. The Hydro-Man grinned as he unzipped his fly.

The penis wasn't particularly impressive. Darker than the rest of him, but flaccid, far smaller than her husband's. The stream of liquid that arced out of it was perfectly clear, like distilled water. It hit the funnel unerringly.

Sue wanted to cough and sputter. She wanted to shake her head and spit. But it was pointless. The warm liquid slid down the tube in her throat, straight to her stomach. Sue closed her eyes, so that at least she didn't have to see her own defilement. Felt the pressure inside of her build and build as the water flooded her stomach, faster than her body could process, creeping down into her bowels. After the first gallon, Sue could actually feel her abdomen begin to distend, pressing against her costume and the ropes.

"Thing about hydratin'," the Hydro-Man said conversationally. "Is all that has to come out at some point."

Which is when Sue became aware of the pressure on her bladder.