The Party Pooper Gets An Audience

Her fists were clenched, nails digging hard into the skin of her palms. For a short while she'd been beating her fists against the rubble she was lying on, kicking and screaming, calling him every name under this Sun or any other; she'd stopped when she'd heard Valkyrie shout out from behind her, "My, my, Miss Danvers, I never took you for such a brat!" The shame Carol had felt at that had been enough to make her pipe down and take her 'punishment' with as much dignity as she could currently muster. She'd imagined watching herself from afar--a naked blonde with a butt the colour of an overripe grapefruit, wailing while Fabio back there spanked her over and over again--and felt her stomach lurch at how cringeworthy a sight it probably made for. Instead, she'd allowed her head to droop forward so that her long blonde hair would fall down over it and provide something in the way of coverage. Carol preferred that to either of the two Asgardians seeing the miniscule dot her enraged pout had made of her mouth, or the sheer redness of her face.
The worst part, other than the crippling humiliation of being spanked like this in the first place, was the sheer peculiarity of her actually experiencing pain, real pain, for the first time since she'd gotten her powers. Each of Thor's powerful slaps brought with it a sharp, lingering sting that radiated across the surfaces of her exposed ass cheeks. After a while they started to tingle, even between his strikes, and she couldn't help but let out muffled sighs and grunts of pain the more sensitive they became. There was something to be said also about the extra layer of embarrassment added by the use of his bare hand to do the deed; throughout the whole process Carol was always aware of the warmth concentrated in it, the unyielding musculature beneath, and the shame-inducing optics of her being treated like an unruly child—bent over and punished with nothing more than the arrogant prince's palm and the gentle curves of her naked rear-end.

At one point, she heard in the distance a sound like thunder, and she found herself listening for the the accompanying crackle of lightning, but it never arrived. Carol felt a palpable sense of unease. Not a storm, then, so where's the noise coming from? She wondered. Her questions were soon answered when the thunderous rumbling resolved into the disparate patter of numerous pairs of footsteps, coupled with the raucous, excited chatter of a crowd. Carol strained to hear some of the voices, and in the babble she heard snatches of eloquent Xandarian, the low, bassy intonations of Kronan, and a dozen or so other alien tongues she'd either picked up or simply heard enough of to recognise upon hearing. Thor's party guests, then. Somehow, the word of what their host was doing had, spread, and before long the large group of party-goers had gathered in the ruins of the boardwalk shop to watch Thor punish the hated Party Pooper. Thor stopped spanking and she heard the creak of floorboards as he turned to address new spectators. "Friends! Acquaintances! Beloved strangers! Fear not, as you can see I've once again subdued our Party Pooper, and I am currently passing on both my and your displeasure at her brazen, unsporting attempts at ruining the festivities!"

The crowd cheered in response, a chorus of whoops and laughter going up at the predicament Carol had been placed in. "Great job, Captain!" Someone said. She'd been recognised, then. Figures.
"When I heard the name 'Party Pooper', I never thought it'd be so literal!" Another tittered. Laugh it up, laugh it up... she was grinding her teeth together now, her face and backside both equally burning up, though for very different reasons. Among the party-goers another voice called out. It was unknown to her at first, as much a stranger as any of the others, but it was easy to guess who, or rather what he was once he started speaking. "Hark!" The voice's owner boomed, "The Annhiliator's been brought low! Finally, the so-called Captain Marvel, in her rightful place! Justice for The Supreme Intelligence, taken from us by she of the Burning Eyes and the Golden Wake! Justice for Glorious Hala, its seas drained and its Sun dimmed by her terrible power!" He punctuated each sentence with a loud, metallic thud. An Accuser then, apparently on vacation with his own hammer. He went on, "Fellow partiers, I would beseech you join me in a rousing chant! Let us show The Annhiliator the depth of our displeasure!" Again, he tapped his hammer's haft against the ground, then led the crowd in a chant composed of a single, terrible word, timed to coincide perfectly with Thor's strikes when he returned to delivering them:

"Pooper!" Crack
"Pooper!!" Crack
"Pooper!!!" Crack

Carol was furious, literally shaking in a combination of rage and embarrassment. Everyone was pointing and laughing at her, wringing every bit of enjoyment they could out of the display Thor was putting on. Again and again he spanked her, his handprints growing into larger and larger ovals of scarlet skin that slowly crept over the surfaces of Carol's pert, sculpted cheeks, her tush wobbling and quivering briefly with each powerful strike. Soon they were positively inflamed, the areas he was focusing on looked almost sunburnt, particularly in contrast to the lighter, untouched parts that surrounded them, and still he kept going, delivering further smacks to the booty of the despised, unwelcome Party Pooper. Unwilling to just lie there and accept it, she kept wriggling in place, **** to get free, **** to get away; she couldn't be seen like this, the more these people watched the worse it would be when they finally went back to their party, or else returned to the stars. It'll spread, she realised. Every last one of them would tell everyone they knew this story, the Tale of Captain Marvel's Spanking. There'd be nowhere in the galaxy she could go where it wouldn't follow, she'd never recover!

"POOPER!!!" Crack
"POOPER!!!" Crack
"POOPER!!! Crack

Carol held her fists out in front of her, peering down at them through the long curtain of her hair. C'mon, she told herself. Gimme something, just enough to get out of here. C'mon! She strained and strained, screwing her eyes shut and trying to call on the reservour of power that had been there for so long, that she'd gotten so used to drawing from that it had become as natural as breathing.

"POOPER!" Crack

There was the faintest hint of something hidden deep away inside her. The spark of a spark, an echo of her power.

"POOPER!" Crack

She clenched her jaw and felt a vein pop out on the side of her head. C'mon, c'mon, where are you? The spark flared up again and finally found purchase, she pictured a flame the size of a thimble dancing in an infinite void. She imagined blowing gently on it, making it sway to and fro.

"POOPER!" Crack

She tensed her abdominal muscles, breathing on it and rubbing her hands together over it. A few drops of light fell from her palms and landed on the flame, making it hiss and roar, and grow. Just a little more, I just need a little more. Before she'd even finished the thought she knew what needed to be done. She swallowed hard, pride and saliva both, and clenched her buttocks.

"POOPER!!!" The crowd of party-goers cheered as Carol tightened up her glutes and pushed her cheeks together and out. Thor's final strike came as if in slow-motion, the flame inside her building and building until—"

CRACK! His hand struck Carol's butt, hard palm meeting harder cheeks. She felt the awful sting one last time, but it was drowned out by the warmth that seemed to envelop her entire body at once. "GET. OFF!" She roared, a wave of conscussive **** blasting out from her. Thor yelled in surprise as he was lifted off his feet and blown up and out through the broken ceiling with fearsome speed. Carol felt the weight of the hammer lift from her back as it sailed upwards after him, and she gasped at both her newfound freedom and the power once again coursing through her. She rose calmly into the air, turning in mid-air to look at the assembled crowd. The Accuser was standing at the front, a sunhat perched at a jaunty angle atop his ceremonial headdress. "Dishonour! Trickery! The Annhiliator flaunts her body even as she scorns her rightful punishment!" He cried, pointing the end of his hammer at her nude, glowing form.
Carol gasped and looked down, realising she was uncovered, quickly placing one hand strategically over her crotch with its bright gold patch of pubic hair, and her luminous, gently swaying breasts. All eyes were on her; she blushed but it was lost beneath the aura surrounding her. Valkyrie wolf-whistled and pushed her sunglasses back up the bridge of her nose. "Well, at least we know you've still got it, Headlights!"

Carol had nothing to say. She stammered out a few broken, halting syllables, lifted one shining, trim thigh over the other, then turned her head skyward and sped off.

[Author's Note: I always enjoy and appreciate feedback in terms of what's working and what isn't, so please feel free to like and/or leave comments!]