Sensational Sluts Pt. 05

Reed snapped back to awareness. He was standing over the sink in the men's room, the last drops of the antidote he had prepared gurgling away down the plughole. He searched his mind for the formula, only to find it lost. Erased. Worse, he couldn't even try to form the thoughts to cure it. This was the sort of rewrite only a telepath could accomplish.

"Damn you, Frost." He muttered. She had captured his mind. Paralysed him. Walked him into here and made him pour away the only chance he had of saving Sue, and Rogue, and Harley. Now he was free, he charged for the door and found himself back in the club. It was empty. Empty except...

Reed didn't speak. Couldn't speak, perhaps. He just stood there, stiff, pale, staring - as if even his prodigious brain was still struggling to catch up to the scene in front of him. The stage. The lights. The heat. His wife - or some bimbofied parody of her - was bound to a chair, legs spread, lips swollen, body visibly changed from the virus coursing through her.

Sue opened her eyes. She didn't flinch, or cry. She just looked at him. Not pleading. Not ashamed.

Waiting.

Emma entered the room, her heels clicking against the sticky floor. She had changed into some of the club's stripper gear, obscene even for the Vixen's Den. Her body was flawless, a mixture of mutant physiology, high-end plastic surgery and the finest posture lessons money can buy. She looked calm. In charge. Like this was the outcome she'd expected from the start.

"You seem disappointed," she said.

Reed swallowed. "You implied you were going to save her."

Emma smiled faintly. "I did. I saved her from the tedium of being her."

Reed took a step forward, but hesitated. His wife looked so... different. Not just her body. Her attitude. Her presence. There was something vacant in her, something wanton. Like she'd been opened up and emptied out, then painted over in sex and heat.

Reed turned to her fully now. Anger twitching behind his eyes. "I trusted you. Despite myself, Emma."

Emma stepped in close - too close - her lips nearly brushing his. "And you were right to. I'm the White Queen, darling, you trust that I'll give you what you need, not what you ask for."

Behind them, Sue let out a slow, soft breath. Her thighs pressed tighter together. Reed froze. Emma watched him.

"You want to punish me?" Emma whispered. "Go ahead." She reached down, took his hand, and pressed it to her waist, "or maybe," she said, voice dropping lower, "you want to fuck the woman who finally taught your wife how to beg."

Reed's jaw clenched. His hand flexed against Emma's waist.

"Is this a game to you?" he hissed. Emma didn't flinch. Her lips curled, just slightly.

"No, Reed. It's an education."

Reed used his powers to bulk up his arm, shoving Emma back against the pole at the centre of the stage. Her spine hit metal with a dull thunk. His body pressed up against hers, caging her in. He was taller, broader, physically stronger than her. His hands were rough with tension, mouth tight with fury.

"You think you understand anything about us?" he growled. "About her?" Emma laughed softly, and it was the most condescending sound he'd ever heard.

"Angry men are so easy," she whispered. "All that indignation. All that righteousness. And all I have to do-" She rolled her hips against him, just once, and there it was. The heat. The twitch. His cock, thick and straining against his outfit.

Her smile sharpened.

"-is make you hard."

Reed froze. She felt his breath hitch. His cock pressed against her thigh - heavy, unmistakable, already leaking. Emma tilted her head, brushing her mouth against the edge of his jaw.

"You're not angry because I broke her," she whispered. "You're angry because you're trying to pretend you're better than this."

He growled - low and guttural - and pinned her wrists above her head.

"Don't flatter yourself," he spat. "You aren't half the woman Sue is."

"Your cock doesn't seem to agree at all." Emma grinned.

Behind them, Sue whimpered. Her thighs rubbed together in the chair, wrists twitching in their restraints. She wasn't looking away. She was watching. All this time she had been slowly creeping around Reed's mind, switching off his inhibitions, eroding his emotional control, and now - with Reed's hands on her, his face close, their bodies intertwined, she was ready to strike.

Emma arched her back against Reed's chest, voice low and perfect. "Why don't you show us who's boss? Fuck me," she whispered. "And make her watch."

Reed didn't say another word. He grabbed Emma by the throat - not choking, but owning - and spun her around against the pole. Her arms remained pinned above her, her spiked heels braced wide on the stage. She let out a delighted gasp as he shoved her stupid little skirt up with one rough motion. No panties. Of course not, he thought, not for this kind of slut.

He yanked his cock out and pressed it against her in a quick, desperate motion. Thick, hot, twitching with need - it took one single, furious thrust for him to find himself inside her.

Emma moaned. Loud. Rich. Triumphant.

"FINALLY," she gasped. She threw her head back, eyes fluttering, mouth parted in perfect pleasure. The stretch, the heat, the fury in his grip - it was exactly what she wanted. Not because she cared about Reed. But because she'd won a victory over Sue. Her precious husband, buried deep inside the White Queen's horny little cunt. They could fix Sue's mind, perhaps, they could come to terms with her virus-influenced infidelity, absolutely - but now that Reed had forced himself balls deep into Emma, there was no erasing that. It would always be true: there was no un-fucking her.

Emma revelled in it. She was being railed by Mister Fantastic while his perfect little wife watched from a chair, tied up, leaking onto the vinyl like a whore. Sue let out a ragged sob. Not of sadness, but of arousal. Her thighs clenched. Her body jerked in the restraints. She wanted to look away - god, she tried - but her senses were glued to them. To Reed slamming into Emma, to the way her rival's perfect body bent and bounced under him, to the filthy wet sounds of skin slapping on skin. To the way Emma smiled at her through it all.

"You watching, sweetheart?" Emma panted, looking back over her shoulder, voice ragged but giddy. "He's so much better when he's angry. You should've let him fuck someone else years ago." Reed growled - and drove in deeper. He wasn't talking. He wasn't thinking. He was fucking. Fast. Brutal. Unrelenting. His fingers dug into Emma's hips hard enough to bruise. Her heels scraped the floor as she took every thrust, gasping, grinning, getting louder.

Sue groaned again. She hated that she was grinding against the chair, trying to relieve the ache in her soaked pussy. Her tits bounced with every twitch. She couldn't stop moaning. Couldn't stop imagining Reed's cock inside her - not with love, not with tenderness - but with that same disgusted need he was taking out on Emma.

Emma screamed. Her orgasm tore through her, her whole body arching, cunt clenching tight around Reed's fat cock. He was using his powers subtly, increasing the size of it, stretching her slowly but deliberately as he filled every part of her.

"Oh god..." Emma whimpered as her legs trembled. She knew it was going to feel good, but she had no idea it'd be like that. She couldn't take much more, and she knew that in his current state he might just keep going forever. But Emma had made hundreds of men cum, and Reed might have been the most intelligent men on the planet, but he was still just a man. She knew what to say. "Reed, don't... don't cum in me... I'm not using protection... this is so wrong..."

And that? That pushed Reed over the edge.

He slammed forward one last time and came, snarling, filling her with hot, vicious pulses of cum while she laughed - laughed - through the tremors. They collapsed forward, panting, still connected, still soaked.

Emma turned her head and looked at Sue. Flushed. Panting. Broken.

"Your turn, darling," she said sweetly. "If you ask nicely."

Sue squirmed in her chair.

Her thighs were slick, trembling, glued together with need. Her wrists strained against the restraints Emma had created using Sue's own powers - not to escape, but to reach. Her hips rocked helplessly, searching for friction. She could smell Reed - the sweat, the cum, the betrayal - and it made her throb.

"Please," Sue whimpered. "Please let me join..." Emma turned slowly, flushed and glowing from orgasm, cum dripping between her thighs. She looked down at Sue like a bored queen examining a trembling servant.

"Join?" she echoed, voice light. Sue nodded furiously. Her lips were swollen, her pupils blown. Her entire body screamed fuckdoll, even without a touch.

"I'll do anything," Sue gasped. "Anything you want."

Emma stepped forward, slowly circling the chair, dragging a gloved finger along Sue's throat, her collarbone, the curve of her overfilled tits.

"Anything, hm?" she murmured. "Even if I say you don't get to touch. Don't get to speak."

Sue whimpered. "I'll be good. Please. I'm a good girl. I wanna be a good girl-"

Emma clucked her tongue. "Good girls don't turn into stage bimbos. Good girls don't get wet watching their husbands fuck their enemies."

Sue shook - shame and lust twisting together. "I know."

Emma leaned in close, lips just brushing Sue's ear.

"Then be quiet."

With a soft flick of her thoughts, the restraints changed. A forcefield gag shimmered into place over Sue's lips - not harsh, just final. Her moan was swallowed before it ever escaped. She writhed in the chair, eyes rolling, soaking wet and gagged, as Emma climbed onto her lap like it was a throne. Reed watched - catching his breath - as Emma straddled Sue without giving her a single inch of contact. No kiss. No touch.

"You don't get to join yet," Emma purred. "You get to watch. Again. Until your brain melts into tits and desperation and you forget what it felt like to say no."

Sue's eyes fluttered, hips bucking uselessly.

Emma smiled.

"That's it," she whispered. "Stay hot. Stay pretty. Stay mine."

Sue bucked beneath Emma, unable to stop grinding into the air, her cunt clenching on nothing. Her gag kept every desperate whine trapped in her throat, but her eyes - glassy, wide, pleading - screamed the truth. She wasn't thinking anymore. She was just a desperate bimbo who needed to be played with. Emma reached back lazily, cupped one of Sue's huge, bouncing tits in her palm, and squeezed hard enough to make the bound blonde twitch.

"Look at her," she said to Reed, who was now standing again, cock hard and glistening with leftover cum. "Fucking useless on her own. All that power, all that poise... and now she's just an accessory. Something soft to fuck against." Reed stepped forward slowly, watching his wife twitch beneath Emma, her body betraying her completely.

"She always was too careful," he said. "Too perfect. It's a relief, honestly. Seeing her like this."

Emma leaned back, pinched Sue's nipple. "Then take her. Not like a husband. Like an owner."

Reed didn't hesitate this time. He stepped between Sue's spread legs and grabbed her by the hips. No kiss. No kindness. Just the need to use her. Sue moaned behind the gag, eyes fluttering, body writhing. Reed lined himself up - and slipped into her. His cock was slick from the mixture of his cum and Emma's, and he was so broken, so disinhibited, that he actively enjoyed fucking someone else's juices into his ruined wife.

Sue's scream was silent but explosive - her entire body locked and spasmed under the force of it. Emma laughed and leaned forward, licking along Sue's throat as Reed fucked her, hard and fast, straight into the chair.

"That's it," Emma cooed. "Fuck her like the bimbo housewife she was too scared to be. She's not your wife now. She's a toy. A fuckdoll." Emma reached down, pressed her fingers to Sue's clit, and gave her just enough pressure to keep her on the edge. "She'll cum when you say she can," she whispered.

Reed's thrusts grew faster. He grabbed Sue's chin. "You hear that?" he growled. "You don't even get to cum unless I let you. This is what you are now. My cocksucking house bimbo. Not an explorer. Not a mother. Just fat tits and a warm hole."

Sue shook, her body pulsing around his cock, but she didn't cum. Not yet.

Emma whispered to her again. "Cum for him, now."

And Sue exploded.

Squirting, gasping through the gag, hips jerking wildly as Reed grunted and filled her again, shooting a thick second load deep inside her well-used cunt. They collapsed into one tangled, twitching heap - Sue used, spent, soaking - Emma perched above it all like the queen she was. Then, quietly, calmly, Emma stood.

She turned to Reed. "She'll need a handler. Someone to keep her from giving in completely. You could maybe manage it on your own."

Reed wiped his mouth, breathing hard. "Or?"

Emma smiled.

"Or you could let me move in."

*Coda One: Foundation Rebuilt*

Weeks later, the Baxter Building gleamed in the sunlight.

Sue was kneeling on the marble kitchen tiles, naked except for six-inch heels, her lips stretched wide around Reed's cock. Her mascara was thick and smudged, her blonde hair pulled into a perfect high ponytail. Her tits - now cartoonishly oversized - bounced with every bob of her head, the latex collar around her neck reading "PROPERTY OF F4."

Reed spoke calmly into his earpiece, as if her throat weren't stuffed full of him. Only when he hung up did he finally address her. "Sloppy again," Reed said, tugging her hair. "What are you?"

"Your dumb house bimbo, sir."

Emma walked in wearing one of Sue's old uniforms - tailored tighter, heels sharper. Around her left ring finger she wore Sue's wedding ring. Cheaper jewelry than she'd normally touch, but so much more delicious because of the moment when Reed had - warped by Emma's telepathic influence - decided to slip it away from Sue's finger and place it on her own. She was, after all, the more fitting bride now.

Emma smirked, then leaned in and kissed Reed deeply, passionately. "She might be dumb, but she's learning," she grinned, then turned to Sue. "Now be a good girl and swallow my husband's cum."

Sue giggled, then opened her mouth wide as Emma began to jerk Reed off into it. Somewhere inside herself, she felt a flicker of confusion - the unreachable memory of a wedding, a promise from Reed, a ring on her finger - but it dissolved like sugar on her tongue the moment she felt his boiling cum erupt across her pouting, glossy lips.

From behind them, Johnny entered - shirtless, towel slung low, hair wet from the gym.

He didn't say hi. He didn't ask.

He just walked up, grabbed Sue by the ponytail, and dragged her toward the couch.

"Need a stress release," he muttered.

Sue giggled and wiggled her hips as he pushed her down and shoved himself between her tits. She moaned dutifully, squishing them together as he fucked her cleavage.

Ben walked in next.

"Aw, there's always a line!" He sighed, freeing his huge rocky cock from his underwear. "But I'm next, ok Suzy?"

Sue gurgled in assent around Johnny's cock, cum already dripping from her nose, eyes half-crossed.

She was perfectly at home.

*Coda Two: Legacy Girls*

The Vixen's Den pulsed with music and sweat and dollar bills.

Rogue twirled lazily around the centre pole, her enhanced curves slick with glitter, her G-string sparkling under the lights. She moved like she had nowhere else to be - languid, perfect, dangerous in her stillness.

Harley was curled up in one of the side booths, her chin resting on Rogue's discarded bra, idly tonguing the rim of a cocktail glass. Her lipstick was smeared, her pigtails uneven, but her eyes were sharp under the sugar glaze.

They looked like perfect bimbos. And they played the part flawlessly.

They had to.

Because they'd been left behind.

Reed had taken Sue. Emma had claimed her prize. And in the end, when the "cleanup" was done, nobody had come back for them.

Harley had cried about it once - messy, mascara-blackened sobs in the dressing room. Rogue had held her until the tears ran dry, then kissed her until she forgot what she'd been crying for.

Now they just danced.

And sucked.

And smiled.

But under the glitter?

They remembered everything.

Backstage, Harley pulled Rogue into her lap, stroking her thighs, nuzzling her neck.

"Still think we're gonna get 'rescued,' Roguey?"

Rogue smirked, grinding down into her lap. "Rescued? Naw. Upgraded maybe."

They giggled. Kissed. Tasted like candy and champagne.

The curtain behind them parted.

Mr. Sinister stepped inside, impeccably dressed, eyes gleaming like a man admiring his finished sculpture.

"Well," he said smoothly, "aren't my girls thriving?"

Harley blew him a kiss. Rogue just arched an eyebrow.

"Came to see the merchandise?" Rogue drawled, lazily licking Harley's collarbone.

"Oh no," Sinister said, voice dripping with amusement. "I came to reinvest. You two did wonderfully. The virus held - your minds... fascinating. Adaptable. Perverse in all the right ways. Of course, I wasn't expecting the Fantastic Four to get involved but Emma's help has proven invaluable as ever. I don't know what I would have done if she hadn't let me know she was coming here."

He stepped closer and smiled. "I think we're ready to roll this out."