Another Change in Perspective

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Sue Storm recalls her time with Emma & Jen & Janet & Betsy.
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Zev95
Zev95
1,569 Followers

As a girl, Sue had been a parent. Her father and mother had died young, but now before giving her a baby brother to care for. So, a teenage girl, she'd stepped into the gap. Washed his clothes, done his dishes, cut the crusts off his sandwiches. All while a part of her, and it fluctuated in size every day, saw the other girls who only had to worry about diets and clothes and boy bands; it screamed "Unfair! Unfair! Unfair!" And she couldn't argue with it, not when Johnny got to be a kid and she had to be an adult.

She didn't want to take it out on Johnny. He'd lost as much as she ever had. More; at least she had the memories of their parents. He barely had their faces. But still, the frustration piled up, just from Johnny being Johnny, and she... overcompensated. She went for him to go to sleep, at a 9 PM bedtime she was uncommonly strict about, and then she dug into her closet for the clothes he never saw her in. The leather. The red lace. The thin tops. And she went to the kind of clubs that probably shouldn't have let her in and did the kind of things that she shouldn't have done, yet couldn't regret.

Boys (bad boys) called her Stormy, and hung off the puffs of smoke from every cigarette she burned. Tobacco or otherwise. She'd danced way too close with other girls' boys, stealing them away, and sometimes stealing both. They weren't called threesomes back then. Just 'partying'. And that was about as gay as Susan had ever been.

Last night, she'd eaten out three women.

Sue had been under no illusions that 'Stormy' was the real her, anymore than she was 'really' June Cleaver. She was somewhere in-between. She loved both the danger and the safety, the day and the night; male and female (she thought ruefully). Then came Reed, and Ben, and Johnny too, in a way, the way he matured ever so slightly and fit into their little group, the dutiful son with Reed, the annoying little brother with Ben, playing the kind of tricks you never could with a sister. She'd found herself, in a way.

And, in another way, the birth of the Fantastic Four was a blessing on that account. Suddenly, she was both sex symbol and scientist, family member and Imaginaut, Susan Storm and the Invisible Woman. Getting married just confirmed it. She could have it all. The danger, the risk, the adventure, all with a home to come back to and a sweet husband and a family that loved her unconditionally.

Where had it all gone wrong?

Somewhere along the way, with Johnny and Ben forming their own little families and with the birth of her two amazing children—the fantasy had given way to routine. She had to mind Reed— with his dictatorial tendencies, his patrician outlook, the self-assurance that bordered on supremacy—as much as she ever had Johnny. She had to comfort Ben in his heartbreak, because the world just kept breaking the biggest heart she'd ever known. And Johnny... she actually envied Johnny. The way he seemed to dip into responsibility without it ever sticking. He was best friends with that spider fellow, but if it wasn't convenient, that was alright, Peter could just find Daredevil and play with him. It was all so...

Something had happened to her, small but infuriating, and it just happened so much...

So she'd slipped back into her old routine. She'd been Stormy again, without even realizing it. The old double agent had come back to life as she went out with her friends for a night on the town, no idea what a night it would be. She'd stayed with Janet and Jen as they changed right before her eyes, showing her lusts she never could've imagined them possessing, then holding up a mirror for her to look into. Like the dance of the seven veils, her inhibitions had fallen. She would be present, but not look. She would look, but not stare. She would stare, but not touch. One by one, she had gotten out from under her vow to Reed, and by the time the coke was on her nose and a dildo was up her ass, she'd still thought of herself as Susan Richards. Was she? Had she ever been?

She'd gone back home, helped into her clothes by her newfound friends—co-conspirators. They'd washed her up and given her water for her hangover and Emma herself had given Sue a smart pat on the rump to send her on the way. And she, still the dweeb that had never gotten ahead of a single Avenger on the Maxim Hot 100, had taken the taxi humming I Could've Danced All Night to herself like she'd just been romanced by Clark Gable. She'd seen the show's last Broadway revival. What had she been doing getting fucked in the ass by a former supervillain?

Then she'd slept without even a moment's insomnia, dead to the world as soon as her head hit the pillow. The night burned the drug out of her system, letting her guilt in. She'd woken up a changed woman, though the change had come the previous day. This was just when she felt it.

Frantically, she'd gotten into the shower and scrubbed herself like there might be evidence painted on her skin. The clothes she'd thrown out only because burning was too extreme. She went without make-up and it just made the woman in the mirror harder to recognize. She'd always been a natural beauty, but now there was a terrible light in her reflection. A smile that seemed to persist right through her horror. She'd hadn't just cheated on her husband. She'd loved every second of it.

Emma's voice rang in her eyes, as clear and loud as church bells in the distance. "That high is not what this drug is all about. It was developed to destroy old-fashioned feelings of guilt, shame, and taboo.... Susan—this is what you want without fear of remorse, regret, self-loathing... all those emotions designed to keep you in line."

The thought leapt to her mind. She could go back. Get more of Emma's 'mutant coke'. Bury this useless guilt again, leaving only her enjoyment of what had happened. But no. She hated the idea. Getting through life self-medicating, not for depression or anxiety, but just to kill her remorse. No, she deserved to feel this way. She deserved to feel worse. Because as awful as she felt, she couldn't bring herself to hate what had happened.

She just couldn't let herself think about it.

"Sue? Are you awake?" Reed's voice came through the cracked door, followed shortly by his head on an extended neck. Sue looked around, as if checking whether she was awake. After that night, everything felt unreal.

She was still in bed, her eyes aimed at the alarm clock without actually acquiring it. She'd slept in one of the guest rooms, and it still smelled vaguely of aftershave and flannel from when they'd had Wolverine over. Sue hadn't expected Reed to notice her absence; it had smelled like another all-nighter in the lab. But apparently not.

"I'm up," Sue said. "Just feeling a little under the weather."

She turned herself invisible to go into the bathroom and turn on the shower. Reed's head, still extended, followed her in. Luckily, he was used to her not wanting to be seen before she put her face on. For a moment, he was distracted by her clothes becoming visible as they were peeled from her body, then by the outline of her in the steam and hot shower spray.

"If I did something to offend you, I'd appreciate you letting me know." Reed's body made that balloon-rubbing sound as his body caught up with the rest of him. Apparently this was important enough for him to join her in whole. "I reprogrammed HERBIE to let me know if there's a greater than sixty percent chance of my having angered you, and to order flowers as appropriate, but the system is still in beta..."

"We're fine." Sue reassured him by turning her face visible, along with a helping of her upper chest. As she might've expected, he'd rededicated himself to science far too much to be flustered once more. "I just caught a bug and I don't want you to get sick."

"Well, let me run you through the scanner suite, just to be sure. You never know when one of these things is a potion of Diablo's..."

Sue thought of him picking up the coke in her system. She had to give it time to flush out. If it did flush out. It was some kind of mutant drug, right? What if it would keep showing up on drug tests when she was eighty? "Please, Reed, I can't have every 48-hour bug be treated like something out of Star Trek. Just let me be sick awhile, please? The kids can bring me breakfast in bed, like I did for my parents growing up. It'll be fun."

"Alright. You get some rest. If you feel better, the seismology department of NYU either has some extremely faulty Richter scales or New York will soon be experiencing a tectonic event. Either way, the Fantastic Four can lend assistance."

"I'll be there. Just some antihistamines and orange juice, and I can deal with whatever the Earth's crust can throw at us."

"That I can provide."

Dressed in her uniform, and babied slightly by Reed, she felt slightly herself. And moreso with Johnny and Ben quibbling over a videogame, Franklin of all people playing peacemaker. In the time it would've taken her to add two and two, Reed had double-checked the university's findings and concluded there was nothing wrong with the Richter Scale ("Though to be less colloquial, the fault would be in the seismograph, not in the measuring unit itself."). So off they went on the Fantasticar, hovering a half-mile above the adoring masses, supported only by repulsor technology.

The fantastical situation had Stormy bored solid. Seismological weirdness. Had to be Mole Man. And it was. He came bursting up through the Port Authority Bus Terminal (he'd been aiming for Times Square) with the usual rejects from Barsoom. The prospect of a fight seemed so... dull. She could even mouth along with ol' Harvey.

"Foolish suntanned barbarians! The subterranean world will not tolerate your unchecked aggression! Quake before the terrible vengeance of the Mole Man and his lightless legions!"

Then Sue glanced down at the Fantasticar's radar screen and realized they'd double-booked. The Blackbird was on its way as well. Which meant...

Hello, lovely.

Get out of my head, Frost.

Very well.

The radio crackled and for a half-second, Sue expected Emma's iced accent to proposition her right before her teammates. Instead, it was Cyclops's commanding tone coming over. "X-Men to Fantastic Four, we're in the neighborhood. Need any help?"

"Nope!" Johnny said, while Ben chimed "Nada!"

"The more the merrier," Reed said. "I'm always interested to see the X-gene in action."

"That you'll get, Dr. Richards. You might want to hang back while we make our entrance—"

"Come onnnnn!" Johnny pleaded, picturing Bobby Drake getting more hits than him on the Twitosphere.

For once, Reed was with him. "Sorry, friend. The FF doesn't hang back."

They leapt into the fray, followed closely by Cyclops, Marvel Girl, Beast, Kitty Pryde, Gambit, Maggott of all people, and of course, Wolverine. Emma had to still be in the Blackbird, piloting. Waiting to make her entrance. No rush.

Sue steeled herself against anymore speculation in that direction and focused on the fight. It was alright, as far as fights went. She didn't enjoy violence, but as long as the boys had a good time and no one got hurt—well, it was like a bonding exercise, almost. Much better quality time than playing Monopoly.

The Mole Man overreached quickly, and was captured by Wolverine, who was thrown by the Thing. They had a name for the maneuver, which unduly fascinated Reed as he wrapped his arm three times around the snout of a reptile that was trying to wolf him down.

Without the Mole Man's guidance, his monsters were just wild animals driven berserk. They could be corralled and tranquilized one by one, Johnny using his flames to trap them, Kitty baiting them with the safety of her intangibility, and Marvel Girl dumping them back down Mole Man's hole after they were out.

Still concerned by her 'sickness,' Reed asked Sue to watch Mole Man on a nearby rooftop while they wrapped things up. She was quick to oblige. Despite two near-death experiences and the bitter pain of a claw swipe across her midsection, she couldn't keep her mind off Emma. What was she thinking, as she directed the Blackbird's turrets with only a fraction of that incredible intellect? What was she going to do?

She got her answer surely. The Blackbird's hatch opened and Emma dropped down like Buttercup at the end of The Princess Bride, her cape and hair flowing so sinuously that they might've been parachutes. Her body was diamond, though, and it cut through the air like an arrow. The light hit it, flowed through it like the sun setting over water, and Sue was in awe. Emma knew it, and she didn't care.

It'd been a long time since she'd had wonder. Finding it with Emma seemed at least as legitimate as traveling to another dimension.

Emma landed surprisingly lightly. Sue wondered how much diamonds weighted and—"You wound me," Emma said, shaking flakes of concrete off her high-heeled boots. The impact she left was like a star would put down outside Mann's Chinese Theater. Dainty and elegant. "I live in a mansion where red meat is a load-bearing part of the food pyramid and yet I only allow myself Nutella when I'm licking it off someone. If Husk had shifted into diamond, she'd be on the ground floor right now."

The Blackbird stayed hovering over them, casting its shadow over the two women and the restrained Mole Man. It happened in the blink of an eye. With no sunlight touching her, Emma's transformation back into flesh was almost imperceptible. And yet, Sue felt the sudden wave of warmth coming off her newly human skin like it was a physical caress. Emma smirked at her speechless facial expression as she turned to the Mole Man.

"Oh my. Is this who's been monopolizing your time? I've had some unconventional partners in the past, but still.... Dignity. Always dignity." Tugging on her left glove like she was reminding herself she still had it on, Emma touched her hand to the Mole Man's temple.

Perhaps it was a side effect of her ability to make the invisible visible, but Sue had always been able to see psychic powers, after a fashion. When she was staring right at it, it was still as vague as something in the corner of her eye. The heat coming off a grill or a cloud in the night sky. Usually, it just blurred her vision during a psychic attack, seeing the blunt force and invasive thievery used by most telepaths. With Emma, it was like she was sliding crystal scalpels into the man's brain, or moving slides under a microscope.

"Oh, rude boy," Emma chided. "The thing he makes those Moloids wear. Your little arch-nemesis saw a documentary on fracking and decided that this time, right would make might. I know a lot of men retreat to basements after they're rejected by enough women, Harvey, but you approach hyperbole. Oh well, at least those boys get to let out some steam without brawling in front of the students, and a little devastation stimulates the economy. Sue dear, have you invested in Damage Control Inc? A very well-run company. Owner's a personal friend. The workforce is fourteen percent mutant and two percent AI. That's better than some Avengers line-ups."

"I can't do this," Sue said. She kept her voice blank, her face blank, her mind blank.

"Can't?" Emma put the Mole Man to sleep with a hearty prod and wheeled on Sue. "Susan, you've done it. It's part of you now. It always has been and it always will be. You're my bitch."

"Don't call me that."

"You loved it."

"I'm married."

"And I killed a horse once. Why are we discussing things with no bearing on our situation?"

"It has every bearing on our situation! No, not our situation. Mine!" Sue threw up an invisible forcefield, thick enough to mute their rising conversation for outside ears. "I'm the one with kids, I'm the one with a family, what do you have? Some... eff-buddy!"

"Eff-buddy." Emma quirked an eyebrow. "Scott's more of a D-buddy, if you take my meaning."

"You're a smart woman, I'm sure you have some masterful way of justifying all this to yourself. But be honest—how would you feel if Scott cheated on you?"

"Bored, probably. Slightly surprised, depending on how much she looked like Jean Gray."

"Well, Reed's not one of your post-human... hipsters! If he found out about us, it would actually hurt him—"

"Would it?" Emma interrupted, barely letting Sue get her last word out before she interjected. "Would it really? Or, as you're so deathly afraid of—would he not even care?"

"Quiet, Frost."

"Perhaps he'd consider it convenient, sharing you. Pawning off your less... cerebral needs onto a third party. Your children have a nanny. Why can't you have a mistress?"

"I'll hurt you," Sue promised.

"Not the kind of physicality you're looking for," Emma replied. She walked toward the forcefield, her low-level scan of Sue's mind telling her it was there, and Sue forced herself to lower it so Emma wouldn't run headlong into nothingness. And as Emma stepped out of the shadows, the light let her steal Sue's breath away.

She was perfect. Even on a team and a job that seemed to demand physical perfection, she took the ne plus ultra of her costume and her body and wore them with such daring and verve... with an effect that went beyond the psychic and became nigh-physical... with such confidence, to both flaunt and not give a damn how she was perceived at the same time... that Sue could only compare her to the Celestials, the Eternals, the other god-like beings the Fantastic Four had encountered on their travels. In the same way their sheer power and importance seemed to shake the matter of the universe itself, Emma's sexual potency demanded attention, arousal, worship.

Her comparatively modest X-Men costume made 'the real Emma Frost' an open secret, a private joke between her and Sue. With her bodice covering her from heart to womb, she easily showed less skin than a lot of superheroines Sue could name. It was the way she stood, the way she walked, the looks she gave that elevated her into a love goddess.

Emma didn't touch Sue, though she was within arm's reach. She barely even looked at her. She just held herself the way she did, arms across her chest, hands about her face, inviting Sue to uncover her. Not even showing enough flesh to be a promise, merely a gamble. "We're not having the same conversation. You're talking about truth, justice, the American Way. All the things that make your life worth living—when you're not with me. Me? I give your life meaning. I give you pleasure that justifies your life. I make you come so hard it justifies itself. This isn't about big words like infidelity and faithfulness and trust. This isn't words at all. It's that mindless beast between your legs that knows what it wants and know how to get it. Are you going to let me feed it, Sue darling? Or are we going to pretend that playing Suzy Homemaker gets you off half as good as I do?"

Sue was flustered halfway through Emma's speech. By the time Emma was done, she was wet. She tried to deny it, but she couldn't when every minute motion rubbed a warm pussy against sodden panties. And so, desperate to force this impossible contradiction out of her life, her powers activated the same way they would to instinctively stop a gunshot.

Emma faded from view. A moment later, her laugh came from nowhere.

"Oh, Sue, you're more delightfully fucked up than you let on. You know, you could've just turned my clothes invisible. It'd make a much better show." Sue heard high heels clicking on the pavement between them, that had been between them. "But even I must admit, it wasn't the sight of me that made you come like Old Faithful. It was my touch. It was how I made you feel."

And to Sue's horror—to her unending relief—she felt Emma's invisible hands run from the sides of her breasts down the curvature of her ribs, all the way down to rest on her hips. Just short of her ass, just short of her cunt—the grip staggeringly intimate and not nearly intimate enough all at once.

Zev95
Zev95
1,569 Followers