There Is A Camera Recording Janet

Janet van Dyne didn't have supersenses in the normal sense. Her eyes were only 20/20, her hearing within human average, smell and taste utterly mundane. Yet as a shrinking heroine, she had come to know what to look for when it came to microconstruction, and there was a spot, just below the level of the window that Janet was absolutely certain was a camera. A pinhole camera, the kind of spytech that S.H.I.E.L.D. or HYDRA used.

She was being watched. Maybe recorded.

The Wasp didn't stare directly at the camera. Her eyes were focused on what was going on through the room, as the latex-clad slut rubbed Porkum's swollen shaft against her labia. Yet she could feel that electronic eye on her, and somehow that made her arousal spike. Janet's pussy burned, **** to be touched, and her breath came faster.

There was an odd smell in the air, too. Porkum's smell. A masculine, animalistic odor, the kind of testosterone funk that she remembered from Hank's costumes when she washed them. There were days when she was his wife that she had rubbed the crotch of his Giant-Man and Yellowjacket outfits into her face, overwhelmed with the smell, touching herself so that she was wet and ready for him...a little kink that Janet missed after the divorce.

Now her nostrils flared. She could almost taste the cock as the blonde bitch on the other side of the window slowly lowered herself on that mutant manmeat. The heroine shuddered, almost overcome with arousal as she saw that sweet pussy spread, Sue Storm's latex-clad doppelganger forcing inch after inch of that tower of cock into her cunny, the pink inner labia showing as she was stretched to her limit.

Janet swallowed hard. Her hand was on top of her crotch now. She wanted so badly to rub one out. To touch herself, to fist herself, to feel her own quim stretch as that blonde was split in two by Porkum's mighty phallus. Yet the camera was watching her...and Jan knew that was the trap. They wanted her to masturbate. Wanted to catch her in the act as she lost control.

Why? she wondered. ****? Or do they want to sell a video of me? Of another super-slut debasing herself like an animal?

The Wasp didn't know. What she did know was that her self-control was faltering. This was just too erotic for her. She had to do something—but what?