Well she did ask for it

Laughing at her eagerness, you remain buried inside her, still hard enough that the first load hasn't taken the edge off. "Well," you say, "no red-blooded gentleman would turn down such an invitation."

Carol tries to keep you inside her as you pull back, filthy with your release, and the moan that escapes her as you drive into her again, slowly at first, then with purpose, spills into her golden hair. Her hair slides through your fingers, the heart buckle knocks against your wrist, and the cropped jacket creaks as her chest sways in the keyhole, her golden eyes half-lidded. She slams her ass onto you, taking every inch, her mess already dripping down your thighs.

The glow of the cane rests against her spine as you thrust into her.

"The more I fuck you," you tell her, "the deeper you fall into pleasure. Your mind transforms, becoming the perfect enforcer for me. Hopelessly in love. Willing to do anything, to anyone, for my sake."

"Yes," she moans, the rest of her words lost in the hair as you drive into her again. "Deeper. I can feel it. I love you. Anyone. Anything. Don't stop."

And like a proper gentleman you oblige, pulling almost out of Carol before slamming deep into her, wet enough now that every stroke sounds filthy. Carol’s gold eyes glaze and she starts giving it back, hips slapping yours, taking your cock like this is the best thing she has ever been allowed to do.

It goes on longer than you meant it to. That ass does not let you off, heavy and wet, milking what is already in her and chasing the next load until your gut finally tips.

You bury yourself just as you climax.

Your cock jerks in her and the load follows, thick wet pulses flooding a cunt already packed with the first one. Carol moans like she is being filled past what she can hold, shoving back to seal you in while it keeps coming, hot and heavy, running out around you anyway and streaking her thighs and the red panels. The sound she makes is wrecked and greedy, fluttering around you, grinding to keep it.

The pleasure does not stay in her womb. It slams up her spine and whites out the gold in her eyes, power kicking with it, denser, nowhere to go but the clench and the last grind of her hips. The moan breaks. Arms buckle. All that hair swallows her face. The glow flares once under her skin and settles. She goes slack, then slips off your cock for real, a wet sound, and lands on the floor in a heap of gold hair and black-and-crimson suit. Cum drips out of her in a thick slow run. One last wrecked moan follows it, pleasure with nowhere left to go.

You stand over her.

One superheroine, under your sway, and empowered to boot. Long gold hair. Heart buckle. Keyhole full. Eyes shut. That is the look, and it holds you longer than the plan allowed. Newly acquired. Enforcer. Lover. The sleeping face has bliss still sitting on it, red mouth slack, and looking away feels like leaving a meal unfinished.

Pulling your trousers back up over an erection that has not gone down, because she still looks that hot after two sessions, you tuck the cane under your arm and carefully pick up your newest enforcer. She is heavier than she looks, warm and loose, a faint pulse of leftover gold under the jacket. The habitable wing is quieter, and the bed is an actual bed. You put her on her side so the hair can fall off the mattress instead of drowning her, tug the jacket straight, and mean to go.

You don’t. Not at first. The mess on her thighs, the rise of that chest in the keyhole, all that hair, the bliss still sitting on the sleeping face. You give it another moment, then another, like a man who already won and still has not had his fill of the prize.

Taking your cane and place the ruby gently on Carol's sleeping forehead. "While you rest and adapt into my enforcer," you whisper to the slumbering woman, "you will absorb the remnants of your former identity as Captain Marvel. When you awaken, you will be Mrs. Spectacular, my Enforcer, my lover, devoted entirely and soelly to me. Your love for me, your desire, and your new personality will have consumed the old Ms. Marvel and Captain Marvel, leaving behind a being fit to serve and love me."

Carol stirs, her breath hitching as the power takes hold, her golden hair rustling on the pillow. She was already yours in body and soul; now, she will be yours in name and purpose as well. You watch her for a moment longer, her chest rising and falling softly, before turning away and exiting the room, leaving the door ajar behind you.

The list in your pocket rustles as you pull it out, your gaze falling on the next name. You pause, your mind lingering on Carol's transformed form, but you quickly shake off the distraction. There is work to be done, and the list is long. You take a deep breath, steeling yourself for the task ahead, and head towards the next room, ready to continue your crusade.