No One Is Coming To Rescue Sue Storm

Doctor Doom activated the radio jammers. Sue Storm's emergency signal, sent out on the Avengers' reserve frequency, was buried in noise. Nothing got through outside the building. Though the Invisible Woman had no way to know it, no help was coming. No one was going to rescue her.

In Doomstadt, Victor von Doom leaned back and watched the monitors. There was no twinge of guilt, as he saw the wounded Invisible Woman, barely protected behind a failing force field, facing an assault from the naked and malicious mutant pig-man. Porkum's erection stabbed forward like a weapon, and Sue Storm, slowly affected by his mutant pheromones and weakened by her injury, was his victim.

Doom watched, silent witness to her final stand. His cameras caught every flinch as Porkum's fists hammered on the force field, the biofeedback an assault on the tired heroine's brain. He saw the sweat drip down her face, the dilation of her pupils, the flush that spread across her cheek and down her neck, all signs of sexual arousal. Yet mingled with the unnatural arousal was pain, exhaustion, and a fierce will that was slowly faltering in the face of repeated assaults, undermined by biological desires over which Sue Storm had no control.

That face was still beautiful. Wife, mother, sister, friend, heroine. She had sacrificed more of herself for that fool Richards than he would ever acknowledge. Doom was well aware of how brilliant she was on her own, the fearsome extant of her power. Had seen worlds where she bestrode the globe as an empress, a queen, a goddess. Even in his own dreams, he had imagined futures where she ruled by his side. Her children his wards, calling him father rather than that damnable Richards. And in her womb would grow...

Victor von Doom felt the sudden erection that pressed against his crotch plate. Sue Storm's back was against the wall. She was mustering the last of her psychic resources, holding out for a rescue that would not come. In choosing Reed Richards for her mate, she had damned herself. Porkum, he calculated, would soon beat down her resistance. The invisible force field would fail. The pig-man would sate his lusts on her. All for the sake of Doom's vengeance.

His erection was hard as iron now.

And after? Doom asked himself. He had investigated his erstwhile "partner." Faith and fidelity were not in his nature. Cruelty, degradation. Porkum enjoyed humiliating women, breaking them, but once he had conquered them, he frequently grew bored and discarded them.

Doom studied her face in those final moments. Teeth bared. Blood oozing down from her nostrils as the neural seepage grew worse. Her defiance dying slowly as she gave in to the irresistible urge to defile herself on that phallic spear. That was the plan, after all. Victor von Doom had known that from the start.

In her blue eyes, bright with pain and lust, he saw her hope at rescue die. Resignation was setting in. She knew what was coming.

In his mind, Doctor Doom considered his personal teleporter. If he acted now...