Sue Storm Refuses To Pay - And Goes Into Withdrawal

She couldn't do it. No matter what happened, the Invisible Woman was too moral, too upstanding to ever give in to such blatant larceny. While she rued the day she had ever tasted Porkum's milk, she knew that to give in on this would be just the first surrender to temptation—and she had no idea where it would end.

"H.E.R.B.I.E.," she said. "I need you to put the building on lockdown mode. I may be in physical or mental distress, but don't let me out of this building unless it is a medical emergency. And refuse any further packages or communications from Porkum."

"Affirmative," the small robot said. "Lockdown engaged."

Lockdown mode had been one of Reed Richard's more paranoid embellishments to the Fantastic Four's security system. A way for any member of the superhero team who suspected they were compromised to cut off access to the outside. Sue Storm rubbed her shoulders as she paced the living room, a sick sensation in her stomach. She had never been addicted to something before. Had never even helped someone through an addiction. Didn't know exactly what she was in for.

There was no sleep that night, or the next. Sweat dripped from her body, and H.E.R.B.I.E. kept her supplied with electrolyte-laden drinks that kept her hydrated but did nothing for the ravenous hunger that assailed her. The nausea that gripped her reminded her of morning sickness. Often she would slump down to the side and her whole body would be caught in a wracking fit, mouth wide as she expelled what little was in her gut—and then continued in dry heaves for long torturous minutes before the attack passed. As the fever settled into her body, it became impossible to rest, and she moved on, from one part of the living quarters to the next. Sucked thirstily on the drinks H.E.R.B.I.E. supplied, but unable to escape the waking dreams, and the sheer physical need that clawed at her body and mind.

With each attack, her powers spasmed. Invisible fields sliced through furniture and walls, uncontrollable. Sue had experienced something like that during pregnancy too. The loss of control. Cosmic forces unleashed.

The sensuality of it was the worst. Sue had been **** to find the small cache of sex toys in the back of her closet. She walked around the living quarters naked except for the vibrating egg in her pussy, taped to her thigh. Her only relieve from the pangs of hunger and the terrible nausea that gripped her was a vibrating wand on full blast. Cold showers and ice baths offered little relief, and sometimes when the fits would take her the Invisible WOman's eyes would roll up in her head and she would do anything to relieve the painful fuck-need that came over her. With cracked lips she had squatted before the open refridgerator and jammed a zucchini into her poor pussy until it had burst into a gooey mess for the cleaning robots to deal with. She had humped the edge of every couch, had collapsed into her children's beds and squealed like a sow in heat as she tried to jam the whole head of the wanding into her aching, inflamed cunt, only to collapse in frustrated tears, then roll over and vomit.

It was about the third day before Sue broke down and ordered H.E.R.B.I.E. to end the lockdown. The small robot ignored her, in accordance with the programming. That was the key to the lockdown protocol, the person who invoked it couldn't repeal it. As the weakened heroine moved from room to room, she caught sight of herself in the mirror. The constant expenditure had swiftly waisted her body, so that her cheeks looked hollow, and there were bags under her eyes. The skin was tight against her muscles, and between her legs the labia were swollen, the skin broken in places, and pockmarked here and there with scabs, the yellow hair dirty with dried blood. Maybe it was her imagination, but the sensitive clit looked larger, the flesh almost raw from overstimulation.

She faced the door and tried to focus her powers. One good blast. One invisible battering ram and she could be free. She could get the money, could...

A spike seemed to drive itself through her wounded left leg. Her pulse thundered in her chest. Sue licked her lips. At the moment, she would have sold her soul to Mephisto for a drop of Porkum's organic nut milk. Her eyes narrowed as she tried to concentrate. A battering ram...to break through the door...

The next attack brought her to her knees. Sue opened her mouth, but there was nothing left. Pain and darkness filled her head as she pitched forward to the floor. H.E.R.B.I.E., who hovered nearby, placed the long-awaited call to the medical authorities.

The medical crisis had arrived.

She wasn't quite **** when the EMTs lifted her off the floor. Eyes slitted as they transported her not down, but up to the roof, for an air transport. The rush in her ears drowned at the doctor's exact words as the grey-haired old woman poked and prodded her. IVs. Sedative. Bloodwork. Get that thing out of her.

The nurse ran a sponge over her naked body. The catheter was an unexpected and unpleasant surprise, the nurse calm and professional as she slid the tube in place. The straps that tied the Invisible Woman to the metal rails seemed ridiculous. With a thought, Sue knew she could be out of here. Yet maybe there was something in the IV that made her hesitate. She was here, in medical care, under clean sheets in a darkened room. Sue almost felt like she could sleep.

It was a place of healing. It was time to heal. The gnawing need of the addiction was still there, but it seemed to struggle with her exhausted body and mind as it teetered on the edge of total collapse.

Then, unexpectedly, she had a visitor.