(far too tame and short)
The silver-haired old vixin patted her bun into place, lit a cigarette and smlied at her reflection. She had been Kitty Pryde. She knew this....and this fat little cutie-boi with the super-curly black hair and the giant dong between his plump legs had been Peter Rasputan. They knew this. They both knew this...
And it didn't matter one bit.
She laced her corset up tight, thrusting her giant mellons forwards and smiling down at Sweet-Pea. The fat, little sissy smiled up at her, taking time out of lacing up her riding boots to blow her a kiss. He was so cute and sweet...just how she liked him. Just how he liked himself. They knew who they had been, but life was so perfect for both of them. They could finally be together, without the threat of attack. All Sweet-Pea and Madame Cougar needed...was each other. As Madame Cougar twisted and dominated her old friends, she knew she was keeping them safe. Making them happy. Her old friend Ororo was better as the brutal, big-dicked 'Storm'. Big, macho Logan was better as her sweet, little daughter-boi 'Kitten'. All her friends were safe, now that they were her students and slaves. She could - and would - keep them safe.
"You're so pretty, Mistress..." Sweet-Pea gushed as he polished her shiny, leather boots. "...you're jus' such a pretty woman. A beautiful, wonderful mistress. I'm such a luck boi t' be your property."
"Why thank you, Sweet-Pea..." she said with a smile, as she twisted her riding crop in her hands. "...you're just such a darling boi. I think I'll start feeding you more, so your big bottom will wobble even more. Would you like that, Sweet-Pea? To be even fatter? So much more fun than being a big, tough hero."
Sweet-Pea giggled and patted his belly. Then he handed his leash - connected to his jeweled collar - to his mistress/lover and gazed up at her with worshipful loyalty. He LOVED being her property. That fact that she was older and wiser now made him so happy. He LOVED that she was in change, and always would be. She was so much better as a lusty, old woman...that if somehow he and she were returned to 'normal'...
"Stop thinking about that, Sweet-Pea." she ordered. "I can see it in your eyes. You've got that sad look...and I won't let you be sad. You're a stupid, little boi now. A fat..." she reached out and played with his belly "...jiggly little baby-boi with a soft, stupid brain and a big, hard cock...and that's all you'll be forever. Now, stop being a fussy little boi-bitch...and lick my pussy out."
She sat down, spread her legs...and smiled at him. How Sweet-Pea loved her. Lover serving her. Doing just what she wanted him to do. He was just her stupid, sexy little slave. He was so lucky.
***
"But...it makes no sense!" wailed Janet Van Dyne.
"I know that..." said Carol Danvers with a shrug "...but what can I say? I'm in love."
"Yes, but a freak like that? This is so unlike you..." said Hank Pym.
Carol glowered at him. She knew they wouldn't understand. They'd think that she was under some sort of spell or something, like what happened to the Fantastic Four, X-Men or Captain America. But...it wasn't like that.
"Freak? Hank...you're luck I'm in a forgiving mood. Friend or not, I'll pull you apart like you were made of fresh bread if you say that again. I mean it."
And she did. She was in love, dammit. Couldn't they understand that?
***
She suck him off, and as she did...she thought less about her husband...and more about J. Jonah Jameson. About being his fat, snobby wife. About dripping with jewels and wearing minks and doing her greying hair (greying?) into a stylish updo. Wouldn't it be better to be Petunia Jameson?