...More Like Semen Falls

On the edge of the basin, right before the precipice of the falls the Dora Milaje danced.

Gloriously nude and equipped with only their iconic Vibranium spears, gone were the stoic warriors of old, replaced by a chorus line of uninhibited desire. Lush curves swayed and jiggled, their bare breasts, glistening with oil, proudly on display. Every woman, a royal concubine and peerless warrior in her own right, reveled in their shameless display. Pregnant bellies, some small mounds, others basketball-sized globes straining against taut ebony skin, punctuated the scene like sacred vessels brimming with Markanda's future.

Okoye, her ebony skin glistening with water droplets, gyrated with the sinuous grace of a black mamba, her every move radiating raw power. Ayo, her eyes gleaming with mischief, twirled her spear like a baton, using its smooth surface to accentuate the generous curves of her hips. Nima humped her spear with lewd intensity, her back arched and hips thrusting in a mesmerizing display.

Among this sea of ebony flesh was the deeply tanned but nonetheless strikingly white form of Maria Hill with her sleek, black bob of hair and piercing blue eyes.

Even before the pregnancy, Maria had been a woman of generous proportions, boasting a voluptuous chest, wide hips, and a round, firm backside. Now, those features were amplified. Her belly was still merely a gentle protrusion rather than the outrageous globe of someone like Shuri about to pop with her twins. But her breasts, always ample, had ballooned further in recent months, the milky globes now swaying heavily from her chest as she moved. Her hips, wide even before conception, now contributed to an ass whose lush shape could accurately be described as 'epic'.

Maria Hill had never been much of a dancer.

It had been mere months since she had severed any allegiance to SHIELD (at least in her own mind) and pledged herself to Mark Williams and officially joined the Dora Milaje. In true fashion, she approached her new role with the same relentless dedication that had defined her career. Combat training was second nature to her, and even learning to wield a spear, though initially daunting, was a challenge she met head-on. She was thankful firearms were still part of her gear even as a Dora, even if Shuri's custom Markanda-tech energy pistols required some adjustment.

Surprisingly she'd even taken to the sexual training like a duck to water despite the relative lack of focus upon that aspect of her life in the past. With her many many practice sessions with her fellow Dora and especially the agonizingly pleasurable tutelage of her mistress Nakia, if you were judged a lesbian by the count and balance of heterosexual to homosexual activities you'd had in your life then she was now an absolute raging dyke even though her preferences were still (as they'd always been even before her abduction to Markanda) firmly for big, thick mutant dick.

But her success probably shouldn't have been a surprise given the almost Pavlovian process that seemed to take hold of her during her time in the harem: the better she became at pleasing Mark, the more opportunities she had to be with him. The orgasms she experienced were like nothing she had ever imagined—intense, mind-shattering waves of pleasure that left her craving more. Her personal goals shifted, aligning perfectly with the desire to worship and experience that sexy massively hung mutant young man as often as possible.

Maria committed every erogenous zone of Mark's body to memory, learned his every erotic kink. She spent weeks practicing deep-throating on enormous dildos until she could take him fully to the root, an act that, while still challenging, she now approached with a confidence born of sheer will and determination. Her body became a finely tuned instrument of pleasure, her vagina and anus mastering the art of extracting orgasm after orgasm from his colossal member.

But dancing? Despite her teammates’ best efforts, her movements remained awkward and stilted. Sensual movement was second nature to Markandan women, especially the elite Dora Milaje, whose grace and allure could mesmerize any man.

Maria Hill? Not so much.

Thankfully, twerking was a skill she could master. Her foul-mouthed sister Nima had devised the perfect solution for Maria’s participation in the breeding ritual at the falls.
With her strong thighs and powerful backside, Maria found twerking to be a straightforward skill. She had practiced with the unwavering determination of a woman on a mission, each gyration a testament to her resolve.

Her Vibranium spear, her symbol of loyalty as a Dora Milaje and the potent representation of the grand white cocks of Markandan kings, was shoved deep into the slick mud at the water's edge, transforming it into a makeshift stripper pole. Her back to the breeding orgy Maria looked out over the cascading waterfalls as she bent low, her hands firmly planted on her knees as she worked her ample buttocks in an unwavering rhythm, the thick vibranium shaft sliding obscenely between the cushiony globes of her ass.

Eventually Maria decided that twenty minutes of focused twerking was enough for a break and she turned back to face the action. She clasped her hands behind her head and kept up a slow steady sway so that her tits swung gently side to side, their heavy fullness a testament to her approaching motherhood. The act came as natural as breathing to her now. As far as Maria Hill was concerned, a nice fat set of jugs had precisely two purposes: providing milk to mutant babies and turning on mutant studs, getting that ferocious spunk roiling in those heavy nuts.

So with her legs spread open and welcoming, swollen plump pregnant pussy on display, she cast her gaze around enjoying the view. As a Dora Milaje, her womb belonged solely to the king, but that didn't mean she couldn't appreciate other good mutant dong in action.

She was frankly in awe of the raw, untamed power of mutant sexuality on display. The sight of a Markandan woman's perfectly feminine black body meeting the powerful thrusts of a mutant male was a symphony of potent genetics and raw pleasure, something Maria had grown to appreciate, even crave. Back in her SHIELD days, she'd had a few flings, encounters that now seemed pathetically tame in comparison. The thought of a standard-issue human penis, especially after experiencing the girth and power of Mark's mutant manhood, now sent a shudder of revulsion down her spine.

Her gaze drifted to the mature form of Ramonda, the mother matriarch in charge of the King's various harems, rocking on all fours before Magneto's powerful thrusts. Her massive brown boobs swayed like tethered melons, half of each submerged in the water.

Maria couldn't help but admire the former queen's unwavering dedication. Even after birthing Ashley, one of Mark's first babies and half-sibling to T'Challa and Shuri, only a month prior, Ramonda was back in the breeding pool, her womb yearning to be filled with the mutant master of magnetism's potent seed. It was a shrewd move, Maria mused. Here was Ramonda, securing the future of her bloodline not just with the King's genes, but with those of a powerful Omega-level mutant. It was a canny way to ensure her descendants not only held royal blood but also the raw power to back it up.

A satisfied smirk played Maria's her lips as she took note of Sabretooth and Pyro also rutting with abandon amongst the crowd.

The SHIELD Agent in Maria appreciated the irony, a pang of satisfaction passing through her.
These were once threats to global security, now reduced to glorified stud bulls, their power harnessed for the betterment of Markanda. It was far better to see them like this, their potent seed building Markanda's future rather than tearing the world apart.

Magneto was just ramming into Ramonda now, the ageless black woman's insides used like a flesh sleeve with little care for how she felt or was getting on. The wide meaty globes of her dark asscheeks were flattened beneath Magneto's thrusting shredded eight-pack abdomen, their flesh rippling in waves as he rammed into her depths with abandon.

Ramonda was clearly savoring every moment, eyes rolling back in her head with a feral moan, a woman well fucked and satisfied with her life.

Despite his age, Magneto was a fine sight. Proud and imperious in his bearing even while fucking. Broad shoulders, narrow waist, sculpted muscle, fine shoulder-length white hair – every inch a warrior king, even if his kingdom was currently the space between Ramonda's ass cheeks. The steady slap of his pelvis against her wide chocolate behind echoed across the falls, a lewd counterpoint to the ecstatic groans and breathless gasps that permeated the air.

The unmistakable sound of Magneto nearing his climax soon came. Ramonda's choked cries intensified, her usually regal features contorted in a primal mask of ecstasy. Maria couldn't help but let out a low moan of her own, her hand instinctively caressing the swollen curve of her belly. The thought of carrying a child sired by a mutant powerhouse like Magneto was a potent aphrodisiac. Her sensitive nipples stiffened, her areolae tingling with anticipation as if milk were about to ooze from their plump buds.

"Come for me, old man," Ramonda snarled between gasps. "Have I not earned my prize? Fill me with your mutant seed!"

Magneto responded with a guttural roar. He slammed his hips forward one final time, his engorged member no doubt spewing thick ropes of cum into Ramonda's eagerly awaiting depths. A wave of satisfaction surged through Maria, a potent combination of arousal and pride at the sight of the voluptuous black matriarch being impregnated by Magneto.

A flicker of movement caught her eye, drawing her gaze towards a particularly energetic group. Wolverine, the gruff, hairy mutant, was locked in a carnal frenzy with a gaggle of Markandan women. His short, stocky stature was dwarfed by the throng of writhing bodies, all vying for his attention. Maria watched, mesmerized, as he rutted with abandon, his stubbly face contorted in a primal mask of pleasure. He wasn't her type, all bad attitude and machismo, but there was no denying the raw power he exuded.

One woman, a busty short stack with lighter mocha skin, was practically swallowed whole by his bulky frame, as he held her back to his chest as he pumped into her with a relentless fury. His forearms, thick and powerful, wrapped her torso like iron bands, her ample breasts spilling out between them. Her legs dangled uselessly, her back arched in an obscene curve as his thrusts rocked her.

Another woman knelt behind him, barely visible between his legs, his large hairy sac laid out across her face, just her chin and tongue visible to Maria as she orally serviced his cum-packed ballsack with vigor while another woman nuzzled her head in between his hairy butt cheeks so that her pink tongue could explore his asshole.

Maria watched with rapt attention as he secured the woman in his arms and then bent forward holding her upside down so that she was suspended above the churning water, her swinging tits pulled into lengthy torpedoes by gravity skidded through the surface of the water which sent little splashes in all directions.

Wolverine rammed into her sopping wet pussy from behind, his primal growls echoing across the falls. His grunts of effort were matched by her ecstatic shrieks as he pistoned into her at a brutal pace, his every thrust sending ripples across the water.

Maria's gaze lingered on that scene for a beat longer than necessary. Wolverine wasn't exactly her cup of tea but she, like many a Markandan woman, had spent hours enthralled by videos of his prowess. His mutant healing factor ensured he could go for hours, a tireless engine of pleasure. His fat balls constantly churned out buckets of potent cum, more than enough to fertilize dozens of fertile wombs with ease.

And that mutant dick! Twelve and a quarter inches long, eight and a quarter around, no surprise at all why he and Nightcrawler were the most popular "performers" after the king (the sizes of their mutant studs was common knowledge to Markanda's human population, endlessly measured and documented for the masses' edification and enjoyment).

Her gaze drifted to a nearby cluster where Iceman and Sunspot tag-teamed a woman with cybernetics gleaming like ornaments across her naked body. The lithe very dark skinned Markandan was suspended between them like a human hammock, her face tilted back in a haze of pleasure as both mutants pounded their dicks into her holes, their dangling nutsacks mashing together with every thrust. As nasty and hot as their joining was below, above the image was almost... romantic, all of their faces inches apart, gazing at each other with lust and admiration, their moans blending into the guttural chorus.

They were handsome young men, but their cocks were far too slender for Maria's tastes. Mutant studs came in all shapes and sizes and if all of them had the thick precious semen that a woman craved, only a minority were hung like she preferred.

Back against the rocks on the far side of the basin, Beast, the blue furred intellectual, and the younger mutants Prodigy and Spyke lounged side by side, each with a voluptuous beauty perched on their lap. The women, in deep ass-popping squats, their dark flesh gleaming with sweat, eagerly devoured the juttingly hard mutant shafts with their cunts.

Beast, ever the gentleman, maintained a more relaxed pace, letting his partner take the lead. Prodigy and Spyke, however, were all frenetic energy, their hips rocking furiously to meet the plunging rhythm of the women. A constant stream of eager participants awaited their turn, each woman dismounting with a satisfied sigh, clutching the precious seed of a mutant between her legs to make sure not a drop went to waste.

Maria happened to glance up at the ledges rising up all around them where like spectators at a gladiatorial arena, stood the human Markandan men. Like rows of dark bowling pins, they lined each ledge, their naked bodies as on display as those in the basin below.

Maria watched with a mix of amusement and disgust as their weak human cum rained down in occasional spurts, destined to be washed away by the cleansing waters of the falls. Meanwhile, the potent essence of mutant masculinity was being deposited directly into the fertile wombs of their wives, daughters, sisters and mothers, ensuring a strong, mutant future for Markanda.
The very thought of that nasty jizz mingling with a Markandan woman filled her with revulsion.

Maria shuddered to recall the relatively few sexual relationships she had with various human men before her conversion to Markanda. The feeling of such semen spurting even inside of a condom felt revolting. Such encounters with members that could only really play around in the very front of her pussy after experiencing the pussy remodeling of the king's massive mutant penis, hardly even seemed like real sex.

As she waited and swayed her body pleasantly, she couldn't help but contemplate the bigger picture.

She knew this spectacle was being broadcasted for the world to see. It was a clever ploy by Mark, a way to portray Markanda not as a looming threat, but as a nation lost in a hedonistic pursuit of pleasure. An effective one, she mused. It not only disarmed potential enemies, but also served as a siren song to mutants across the globe. Here, in Markanda, they wouldn't be hunted or feared. They would be celebrated, their power embraced, their seed cherished.

Images flickered in her mind – Director Fury's scowl, Coulson's nervous smile, May's steely gaze. Former colleagues, now just faces in a fading dream. They'd probably seen the broadcasts by now, seen her, Maria Hill, the quintessential SHIELD agent, gloriously pregnant and naked, a loyal citizen of Markanda. Did they pity her? Did they try to devise some ludicrous rescue plan?

Frankly, Maria didn't care.

America? Democracy? Who needs that messy business when you have the guiding hand of a benevolent (and supremely well-hung) king? She was a woman who thrived on order and authority and she relished the clarity of Markandan law. Here, things were simple: mutants ruled, humans served, and everyone knew their place.

This was her home now. And the tiny life growing within her, a testament to her devotion to Mark and his vision, was all the validation she needed.