The Many Lives of Carol Danvers: A Memoir to Captain Marvel (1)

Written in collaboration with Cross C

After coming back down from the dizzying high of an extended flashback, her pussy was a wreck. The camera zoomed in on the splattered carpet underneath Carol Danvers, showing exactly how hard she’d squirted on the floor before Mark’s throne. A climax after simply sucking his dick and licking his nuts.

“Hahhh… hahhh…”

“You haven’t even started yet, Carol.” Mark smirked, rubbing the panting girl’s head lovingly before standing up from his throne, “Do you want to beg for it yet?”

There was enough resistance in her to keep quiet, yet her eyes told a different story. Shakingly **** as that giga-girth lightly nuzzled her cheek.

He pulled his cock away as he stepped back and sat on his throne casually, legs spread and meat leaning heavily forward. His hands were spread across the rests as he watched Carol kneeling in front of him expectantly, before he patted his lap with a smirk, "Come on, Carol. Unless you've already changed your mind, of course."

Her nostrils flared in anger before Carol flew up and straddled him on his throne. The moment her naked pussy brushed against his tip she shuddered with anticipation, a sense of sexual madness emanating from her core. His hands- his damned mind controlling hands took hold of her waist and her currently floating body was pulled away from his cock and back against his body. He chuckled into her ear, "Not just yet, honey. I wouldn't want you to think I'm just a monster cock, would I?"

"Yes, you're also a mind controlling PRICK! We know!"

"Excuse me. I've put a lot of effort and practice into my skills and I'd appreciate it if you didn't insult me." Mark's faux-hurt tone didn't stop him from moving his hands off her hips and up to her breasts, cupping them gently while kneading them a few times before sliding down her toned belly and her thighs.

His hands felt very good.

"Maybe if you hadn't mind controlled me already, you could actually get me wet on your own merits."

Mark grinned as his fingers were nearly brushing her naked slit. "But you know I'm not using my powers, this is all my skill you can tell. And why not? Am I not a dutiful King of Markanda? Spending the majority of my waking hours servicing the needs of my nation's womenfolk?"

His point was made by the crowd of scantily clad notables in the room cat-calling and whistling, one group of women seemed to be shaking their breasts in a synchronized manner, black breasts ricocheting side to side violently as they held their arms aloft. Others were miming cocksucking and riding or other blatantly sexual acts as they cheered and leered. Carol could almost feel her cheeks blush red at the undisguised lust and obvious envy of her situation in the minds of the many gorgeous ladies present.

Mark's tone was beyond smug as he slowly spoke as if he were an actual king, "It is the duty of royalty to service their subjects and I take my duty very seriously.”

"No no no! Y-you did this to them too! D-don't pretend it's-" Carol's words were silenced by her own moan as Mark's fingers finally found her opening and began to rub. She couldn't deny it. Mark really was skilled at getting her off without using his powers. His thumb was working its way over her clit and his index and middle finger were perfectly stimulating her lower lips, touching them and sending electricity running up her spine with each precise movement.

Mark went on unabashed, "And I am very thankful for how gracious they are at giving feedback. All my Queens of Markanda have taught me well, and I can see that you are enjoying yourself Carol~"

Carol moaned quietly as she bit her lip and stared daggers at Cyclops who sat casually in his nearby chair slowly stroking his dick while watching her humiliation like it was his personal porno. Her fierce gaze collapsed instantly, her eyes going wide and her mouth falling open as Mark’s diving fingers expertly found her G-spot.

Her brows furrowed in a futile attempt to maintain control, but the sensations coursing through her body were overwhelming. Her pussy was tingling with pleasure as Mark expertly teased her most sensitive spots. She tried to will herself to resist, but it was useless. Her body was betraying her, responding involuntarily to his touch.

Her cheeks flushed a deep crimson, not just from the physical stimulation but from the deep embarrassment of her situation.

Carol's body quivered with each precise touch, her muscles tightening and releasing in rhythm with Mark's movements. Her eyes darted around, as if searching for an escape, but always returned to the smug, knowing gazes of Mark's mind controlled mutant court.

Storm's regal blue eyes caught hers, the African Goddess gave her an amused smile as her hand rubbed T'Challa's head as it pressed to her sex, the entirely nude Black Panther eating her out while she watched.

Jean Grey had a look of concentration on her face, no doubt using her powers to help Mark manipulate Carol's thoughts and emotions, amplifying her arousal and intensifying the sensations that were wracking her body. Shuri was sitting on her heels at the redhead's feet like a well-trained canine, just as nude as her brother and making absurd faces at Carol.

Nightcrawler looked almost normal just gazing at her serenely with those inscrutable golden eyes except that he was bottomless and had his enormous weird looking mutant erection erupting from his lap, his pink and blue dick oozing pre-cum and making Cyclops' cock look like an anxious pink worm barely escaping the X-Men leader's pumping fist.

"Now now, I do believe the bet was 'Can I have sex with you and make you beg to stay' and you haven't begged yet.”

"No!" She snapped out before any betraying thoughts could enter her mind. "I'm not going to beg. Never!"

"Never say never. I mean you've already begged and done a lot more besides. Welp. Let's get this show on the road. Bend over in front of your King and spread that pussy for me.”

She flowed into the air and landed upon the cracked earth in the space between his throne and the seated mutants on all fours.

Was she following orders because of the challenge? Or because she wanted to? Her vivid memory attacks had messed with her psyche, nothing was making sense, yet the anticipation to get fucked burnt brightly inside of her. To be finished with the challenge, of course…

The blonde heroine’s breasts hung low beneath her form, erect nipples swinging to and fro while her well toned rear rose up behind her. Looking back at that thick pipe one last time, knowing it would soon be stretching her insides out to a ridiculous degree. Her fingers reaching back to touch at her soggy slit, spreading her pussy lips as wide as they could go to accommodate the King’s wide dick.

Taking one last glance up to her team…her eyes widened in shock.

There were no steely expressions, no defiant scowls, no focused gazes searching for an opportunity to strike back. Above, suspended in mid-air, they were a tableau of unbridled lust. Every one of her male teammates was rigidly erect and staring at her with an unnerving intensity, their circle of rock hard dicks seemingly giving Mark's expert strumming of her body a grotesque parody of a military salute.

The ladies were no less affected, Monica, Janet, and Jess, their breaths coming in short ragged gasps, heat blooming in their cheeks. Nipples were tight, swollen and hard. There were glistening trails flowing down their smooth, bare thighs from their swollen labias.

All of them were twitching and wiggling slightly, swaying from the ring. She got the distinct impression that if they had access to their hands they'd all be masturbating furiously in anticipation of her impending penetration.

She was fighting for their lives, the least they could do is not find it hot.

Captain Marvel just stared up at her captive friends in growing disgust and hurt betrayal, as they twitched and humped against air. Pleading with their eyes for her to take Mark's cock deep inside her.

Then, of course, it clicked.

The King's telepathic puppets were manipulating them.

Their heroic willpower, a cornerstone of their identities, was no match for the mental ****, the raw, primal urges coursing through their veins.

Oh darling, that's entirely their doing. They may not remember, but their bodies betray them. Look at them, well-trained puppies. The mere sight of mutant virility always excites the lesser species.

That intrusive mental voice had a distinct haughty flavor and she cast a glare at Emma Frost who had one elegant stilettoed leg resting on the back of a slender blonde haired woman who was eating her out and lapping away like a cat at a bowl of milk. Two similar identical blondes flanked Emma's chair, dressed up as mini-me versions of her with their heads resting on either of the armrests as she stroked their hair.

She nodded knowingly at Carol.

With a gulp, she could feel Mark at her entrance. Rubbing his cock along her walls and scooping her own juices onto his tip with just a few strokes.

The effect was like having a fucking fencepost teased across her hot slick canal, sending tingling jolts through her body at regular intervals as she prepared herself for his entry.

Internally, a war raged. Her heroic conditioning screamed at her to resist, to fight back against this humiliation. But the raw, primal desire ignited by the King's touch, by the sheer immensity of his member, threatened to drown out that voice of reason. "So what if he has the biggest one I've ever seen?" she raged silently, her defiance tinged with a ****, almost ****, hunger. "I can't let him make me feel good! I won't lose to this mutant stud!"

The last thought, a Freudian slip, hung heavy in her soul, a testament to the insidious influence of the telepathic control. Deep down, a primal part of her, stripped bare by the King's ****, recognized him for what he was – a creature of unmatched sexual power.

The King settled his hands on her lower back as he positioned himself practically over Captain Marvel's raised and offered ass in a deep, primal squat. A camera drone hovered in close, transmitting the footage to the net as well as the neural implants of every elite Markandan in the throne room, a close up on the obscene contrast between his mammoth shaft and her exposed glistening and leaking pussy.

A collective gasp ran through the room as they marveled at the sight, like an expectant theatre audience awaiting the spectacle to begin.

For the Markandan females, which included Spectrum, Wasp, and Spider-Woman now, though they didn't know it yet; this was the ultimate display of male prowess. Their bodies, bypassed their conscious minds, reacted with a primal recognition. This wasn't just any man; this was a superior breeding specimen, a walking testament to mutant dominance. Their cores clenched involuntarily, a silent tribute to the King's undeniable virility.

She had to resist him. This was just a penis.

Just one massive, virile, vagina bending penis.

No matter what happened she would keep her mind and defy fate to set her team free.

“Hey Carol, here’s an idea. Just focus on the pain of my cock stretching you out for the first time, that’ll make me easier to resist.” Mark suggested. The fact that it made sense was so worrying.

With a single thrust his cock was sent so very deep into her Kree pussy. A pleasurable jolt spreading throughout her body.

“Oh that’s right, your pussy is already perfectly molded to my cock. I guess there’s no pain to focus on?

And there wasn't.

He remained still, a statue filling her completely. It felt like his glans was nestled right against her brain, a sensation that sent her consciousness spiraling. A soft moan escaped her lips, a stark contrast to the defiant warrior she’d played at being minutes prior.

Carol stayed in that state, groaning from his cock bulging out her belly, “AH! AHHH!!! HOOOFUCK!”

She'd heard the rumors, seen the horrifyingly arousing videos, but this was beyond anything she'd ever imagined. Then, a pressure unlike any she'd ever encountered began to build within her. A sensation, raw and primal, threatened to consume her entire being.

“Ah…wha- wait!" she stammered, a **** plea lost in the rising tide of arousal. She fluttered a feeble hand down her flank uselessly pressing at his pelvis, but her super strength was utterly absent. A whimper escaped her lips, a pathetic sound that spoke volumes of her complete surrender.

"What's wrong, Captain Marvel?" he taunted as he caught her hand, his voice dripping with mocking concern.

Fear, a primal and unreasoning terror, mingled with the burgeoning pleasure building within her. "Stop! J- jus- T-take it out for now!" she pleaded, her voice a **** plea. He ignored her, his grip tightening on her uselessly flailing wrist.

The King, a cruel smile playing on his lips, leaned down, his voice a seductive murmur. "Shh....Relax this won't hurt. Just shut up and focus on your little pussy." His words, laced with his mutant power, bypassed her conscious mind and sank deep into her core. Obediently, she shut up, her focus shifting inwards, towards the inferno erupting within her.

Her little pussy as he so dismissively called it, had become a pulsating tunnel, a **** attempt to accommodate his monstrous member. She was caught in a whirlwind of conflicting emotions – fear, humiliation, and a burgeoning pleasure that terrified her. Her body, a traitor to her heroic ideals, betrayed her with every involuntary movement. Her hips rocked against him, her butt shimmying about wildly, driving her asscrack into his pelvis.

The camera, a relentless chronicler of her descent, captured the raw desperation etched on her face, a stark contrast to the building pleasure in her eyes. And then, it happened. A wave of blinding pleasure washed over her, leaving her breathless and whimpering. He barely moved, his role reduced to that of a large pole impaling her quivering cunt.

Her thoughts drifted as she struggled to reign in her reeling consciousness, "No... N-not happening... Not like this."

Her pathetic mumbles were punctuated by a soft moan of ecstasy as her pussy contracted, bathing his shaft in copious amounts of her juice.

"Cumming so quickly, Captain?” He smirked, clenching her clit to ride her disgraceful climax as long as he could, “Maybe we should downgrade you back down to Ms. Marvel, eh? Your bare butt costume was so much hotter back then.”

“Unfortunately, I’ve already taken that name from my stupid mentor.”

Carol’s eyes widened at that voice.

Standing boldly with oversized fists on hips and in her full blue costume adjourned with yellow lightning bolt and red scarf, was the last person she was expecting to see. The young Ms. Marvel, Kamala Khan, a young girl that looked up to Carol and had pursued her own heroic career once being gifted the name of her old persona. Kamala had been a bright spot in a tough time of Carol’s life, to see her here, now, was truly mortifying. Here she was, squatting her cunt on a despot’s cock, right in front of a barely eighteen year old girl, having just orgasmed from penetration.

“K-Kamala?!” She blurted out, unable to decouple herself from Mark so instead desperately trying to cover their connection with her hands. “What are you-?!”

“You could always downgrade Carol to Little Miss Marvel, since she looks so pathetic cumming on your cock like that, master.” The brown skinned beauty smirked, sending another dagger of pain into Captain Marvel’s heart. Had she truly failed this hard? Not even able to protect someone like her? The casual way she was standing around both baffled and horrified the poor heroine. “So, the name of this one is ‘Kamala’, hm? I’m sure she’ll appreciate her idol selling her out so brazenly on our broadcasts.”

Brown eyes flashed yellow, and Carol felt only the slightest relief in knowing it was Mystique once more. It still felt horrifying being in front of even a lookalike. And knowing she’d potentially doomed Kamala to an attack from a villain wanting ****, or worse, Mark.

“I could feel you get tighter when you saw her,” His low rumbling chuckle made her stomach drop feel even worse, “Maybe I should add her to my list for you?”

Ororo once more piped up from her chair, “We found out recently that she is a mutant now, even if spliced with those strange Inhuman genes.”

“Oh, but those Inhuman genes let me do this!” Fake Kamala beamed as her tits grew three times the size, ripping out of her Ms. Marvel costume in an instant, “And this!” She repeated the process with her ass. The shredded metaphor of her outfit now tatters around her curvy physique. How Mystique managed it, no one knew. Especially when that costume morphed into the pure black of Carol’s original outfit, “Maybe with my new adult body, I should be Captain Marvel? Or I should just change my name completely. You are such a disappointment of a mentor anyway. Then you can just give in and be Mark’s slut, while I never have anything to do with you again~”

The main problem with trying to deny it was how right so much of Kamala’s words were. Carol probably was a terrible mentor, especially now she was submitting to Mark so easily, and the stinging pains of her heart only seemed to weaken her will rather than make her resistant.

“Alright, that’s enough.” Mark waved her off, “Let’s let our guest focus on her pussy for now. If she’s good, she can lick her subordinate’s slit later.”

“As you wish, husband.” Said the fake, returning to her council seat to sit tauntingly naked in Carol’s eyeline.

Of course, then she had to deal with Mark’s cock.

Grabbing her waist and moving his floating Captain Onahole along his massive beast, she could not feel a drop of pain from his motions. Each longing scrape, each overpowered thrust, each second he remained inside of her just felt better and better. The heat that had been pervading through her being just continuing to build from Mark’s amazing internal attacks.

The rush of memories had paused for just a second, but as he built up a rhythm, she found her vision once more clouding with white…

"OOHH!!! OH FUCK! TH-THIS ONE’S THE BIGGEST!" Carol screamed in her bonds. Even vibranium could creak once This Avenger started lashing about. The feeling of her first ever titan sized prick reaching to her womb was proving to be a lot for her mind to handle.

“Ah, seems Mark has joined us tonight.” hummed her captor. Swirling her wine while petting the blonde hair between her head, “You have three minutes to make me squirt before I have to go greet Mark. If you do, I’ll unlock your cage until I get back.”

Steve Rogers nodded, “Thank you, Mistress Emma. May I cum too?”

“In whichever girl’s mouth you want, sweetie pie.”

“AAHHHH!!!” Carol moaned once more.

Janet was biting her lip next to her. “Oh man, I hope I’m next. My pussy’s been aching for some real cock…”

Jessica and Monica felt similarly. They were trapped in this wall to be fucked by Markandans, why shouldn’t they enjoy it? The row of women may have been locked in here as a row of cum dumpsters for their crimes against the king, but Mistress Emma had taught them how much they loved their roles. And had taught them to truly love Mark and big dicks. Being a super hero couldn’t compare to a life locked in a wall to wait for his massive cock.

Carol was the lucky one, always seemingly picked since she had the firmest ass. Jessica at least had the fattest dumptruck, often the second in line to be thrust into, but Janet and Monica wished they’d spent more of their lives growing their asses for master.

The blonde didn’t care about them though. It was her pussy being loved by Mark…

“Markkk…!” Carol moaned, sucking on her own fingers, surprised to find that she had access to her arms again. The blending of memories was getting harder to separate. She hadn’t already fallen, right?

It was shockingly hard to tell. The way he was pounding her certainly felt like the end of her mind. Resistance was proving impossible to keep up when you’re getting reamed in front of a thousand eyes by such a well hung warlord. He scooped out her juices with that oversized hood on the way out, and generated more on the way in with how many sensitive spots he hit through sheer size alone. Tiny Carol was right, big cocks fucking rule.

The other Avengers were still struggling to keep their own orgasms at bay. During one of Carol’s visions, they’d been moved from floating far above it all to now being a semicircle around the back of Mark’s throne. It could almost be a renaissance painting with how it was framed. Weaker cuckold cocks erect and nearly spluttering from the sight of their leader’s fall, all as Mark treated the strongest hero as a fleshlight for his magnum opus.

Carol was floating now, still getting rammed from behind but her toes had clenched in mini orgasms so many times that she’d subconsciously started flying in a tense sexed up ball. Gripping her own dangling tits to enhance the feelings of pleasure rampaging through her.

She knew her mind was being fucked with, but Carol still believed she could win the fight. Enjoying it was just… a stepping stone to victory. The struggle she’d face before prevailing. Probably.

“Ohh, Captain~” Mark moaned, slamming himself over and over again into the galactic powered cunt, “I just fucking love this ass!” A wild grin on his lips, bringing his hand back to give her ass one big ol ripple.

SLAP!

Carol stood in the blazing eye-squinting Wakandan sun in a marketplace that buzzed with life. Around the sides, stalls overflowed with colorful goods and the air was thick with the scent of exotic spices. The Pod People Wakandan populace was gathered all around in the public square and more were being dropped off by the city trams and arriving on foot with every passing moment.

Their cheers and murmurs filled the air, eager to witness the unusual spectacle.

She stood on a terraced ledge that was part of a fountain and elaborate Panther statue that took up one full side of the square. Her teammates stood in two lines, facing their punishment for daring to "attack" Markanda. The guys were on the lower ledge, while the women were on the higher one. Wonder of wonders, they'd all been allowed to get back into their costumes.

'Of course, just so they could immediately get out of them again', She thought.

Mark Williams was with them on the upper ledge. He looked ridiculous, wearing just board shorts and a light open robe baring his torso, a baseball cap with a picture of a cartoonish yellow crown on his head.

But to the Wakandans, he apparently seemed like a figure of immense power and authority. He was doing his stupid bad acting thing, a stern expression on his face as he scolded them like a disapproving father, his voice echoing through the square thanks to an invisible microphone. The four of them, Spectrum, Wasp, Spider-Woman, and herself were lined up with their backs to the crowd, facing a huge holographic display above them that projected their rear ends from every conceivable angle.

She stared up at her enormous butt in her unfortunately crack hugging blue costume.

This was just... So very stupid. How. How had they been defeated by this drooling man-child of an idiot?!

Ramonda was with the guys, their designated 'spanker' for this lovely event. If anything her outfit was even more ridiculous than Mark's though she was certainly pulling it off.

The once-regal queen, who'd commanded respect on the global stage, was now a caricature of her former self. Gone were the elegant, exquisite gowns Carol remembered from that UN summit. In their place was- well, nothing but a loose gauzy cape attached to her wrists, one of her tall somehow classy hats, and towering heels. Her pendulous, enormous, brown breasts swung freely with each deliberate step she took, like a pair of overripe melons straining against their rinds. Golden jewelry dangled from her pierced nipples all the way down to her baby-smooth cunt with its own piercings and a tattoo of some writing (most likely something asinine like 'mutant dicks only') just above it.

“What are your crimes?!” Mark yelled suddenly drawing back her attention, almost like a military commander.

“We attacked Markanda!” Carol’s mouth shouted without any input from her brain along with the rest of the Avengers. The cameras showing their embarrassed, humiliated expressions.

“How will you atone for your sins?!”

“We shall be spanked until our bottoms are raw!”

“Why?!”

“Because we need to be disciplined by Daddy Mark! Please, spank us until we’ve learned our lesson!” They announced to the world, though the men had a slightly difference in saying ‘Mommy Ramonda’ instead.

It sucked that this was happening, it sucked even harder that she believed it. Carol did need discipline. She did need to atone for attacking Markanda. She both truly thought this, yet also knew she was being controlled to say it too. Just so she still knew how silly she looked.

"Alright ladies and gentlemen, bare those kiesters!" Mark grinned at the crowd as they cheered again.

"God..." Carol muttered as she looked to the side and met eyes with Monica who looked just as defeated and embarrassed as Carol felt. Her hands went to the seals of her uniform at the sides of her waist and she began peeling the blue and red bodysuit down her hips, unfortunately able to witness the unveiling of her own ass on the hologram.

The team were all up on display. Titled ‘The Assvengers’ for pure mockery’s sake.

There was Monica's right beside hers, her wider brown buttocks round and firm, a testament to her physical fitness and agility. Her black and white suit had peeled down just low enough to reveal the full contours of her cheeks, her strong thighs disappearing into her leggings that were stretched around her knees.

She tore her eyes away from the sight and lowered her costume a bit more. To the left of Carol’s was Janet's small backside, her lithe elegant physique giving her a decidedly cute apple pert ass. Her costume was already pulled down to mid-thigh and she was vigorously working it lower with obvious eagerness.

"You okay, Jan?" She asked quietly as she discreetly nodded down at her friend's bouncing booty.

"Honestly?" She hissed back with an embarrassed glance up at the camera recording them. "I'm hating this. But I can't seem to stop."

Carol stared at Wasp in surprise.

"I mean, I really really want him to spank my naughty little behind!" Janet explained in a heated whisper with another shameful glance at the audience that was watching them expose their asses for a spanking.

The real hell of it was Carol was right there with her. The thought of Mark's hand connecting with her rear filled her with anticipation and desire. She wanted him to spank her until her buttocks were pink and aching with pain. She wanted to feel the sting of his palm across her flesh, to be punished for her transgressions.

Which was completely insane. Physical touch was the vector for his mutant power. They'd estimated he could impart a single subliminal command with just a second of contact. With one hundred spanks he could no doubt remodel her entire brain, make her his loyal sex **** without any help at all from his pet telepaths.

So why was she feeling the urge to stick her behind out and ask him to smack it?

An order had already been decided on. The two captains would be last, having to watch their teams be disciplined first and apologizing to them for their failure as well. First up were Spider-Woman and Hawkeye. Though Carol couldn’t really see the men very well from up above, she could hear the disgruntled archer mumbling as he approached the motherly matriarch.

On the women’s level, Jessica Drew just looked defeated. Already she’d had the misfortune of wearing a singular one piece costume, meaning she’d had to rip open the skin tight red spandex so her ass could be spanked to widespread acclaim.

Her back, toned and smooth from years of training, transitioned into a dramatic V-shaped cleft. This led directly to the epicenter of her backside – two impossibly full and round globes of flesh that defied logic in their size compared to her otherwise lithe, feminine physique.

They sat perched on her otherwise slender frame like a pair of ripe peaches, their weight seemingly threatening to topple her backward. The deep, juicy crack split them down the middle, emphasizing their ripe fullness, their overwhelming abundance.

The crowd had erupted in a cacophony of cheers and whistles. The men, accustomed to the ample figures of Markandan women, roared their approval at the sight of a white woman who rivaled their own in terms of sheer gluteal magnificence. The women, initially shocked by the unexpected display, couldn't help but emit a low murmur of envious appreciation.

A superheroine, someone who had helped save the world multiple times, walked over to the king with her big jiggly ass out being filmed before bending over his knee.

“Hello, Spider-Woman. Anything you want to say?” asked Mark even as he didn't wait to get his hands on her prominent butt, both hands sinking into her cheeks with fingers widespread. He kneaded those huge jiggly white cheeks like putty and the cameras obediently projected the view to the towering hologram.

With a small sigh, the beauty grit her teeth in annoyance even as he pried apart her deep juicy crack to expose the wrinkled pink pucker of her asshole along with the plump folds of her pussy, “I am very sorry for attacking Markanda. Please discipline me, Daddy Mark." She apologized formally as he kept squeezing and rubbing at her thick bubble butt, even spitting onto her sphincter and rubbing at it with a thumb.

“Only because you asked so nicely!”

SLAP! SLAP! SLAP!

Soft moans of pain mixed with pleasure could be heard echoing in the other Avenger’s brains. No doubt a way to make them reflect on the process. Having to watch their teammate’s bubble butt ripple with each hit, was almost entrancing.

A primal heat thrummed through Carol's core as she watched Jessica's punishment unfold. Her own backside, exposed and tingling with anticipation, felt like it was burning a hole in the air. Jessica's moans, a mixture of pain and a strange, breathy pleasure, sent shivers down Carol's spine. It was a sound that resonated deep within her, a primal urge to submit to a power she couldn't control.

Each mighty SLAP! was a sonic boom that sent a jolt straight to Carol's own exposed ass.

She couldn't tear her eyes away from the mesmerizing spectacle Jessica's magnificent globes of flesh, two enormous peaches wobbling with a life of their own. The **** of each blow sent a wave of jiggle rolling down her curves, a sight that made Carol clench her own jaw in a **** attempt to stifle a whimper. Her body, seemingly possessed by a will of its own, began to betray her. Her lower back arched, subtly at first, then more and more pronounced, thrusting her own firm backside further out. It was as if her ass, a part of her that usually held itself with military discipline, craved the sting of a similar punishment. A traitorous warmth bloomed between her cheeks, a yearning for a hand, strong and authoritative, to mirror the one currently sculpting Jessica's magnificent globes.

It was clear she wasn't the only one affected.

Monica had crept a hand down her side and it was tracing the soft curve of her ass where few could see it. Looking exceedingly embarrassed and also like a mischievous child doing something naughty, Janet was right on the ledge and jutting her pert ass to the crowd with a slow, deliberate wiggle.

Carol could feel a wetness dripping down her thigh as she watched the scene unfold. Her pussy was pulsing with need, a deep ache that throbbed in time with each slap against Jessica's bubbly bottom. She longed for a touch, a gentle caress or even a strong smack, anything to relieve the tension coiling inside her.

Mark finished up with Spider-Woman, red marks shining prominently on her ass and still murmuring her chanted 'Thank you's.

After the deed was done, she stood up. Skin nearing the color of her torn suit, a struggle to step to the side on such shaky legs, and the pulsing humiliation in her body made the woman behind the mask grimace in frustration. Even so, with how skintight her spider suit was, the outline of her thick nipples were unmistakable. Heftily raising and falling with her ragged breaths.

One by one The Avengers took their turns to be spanked. Next was Wasp and Falcon. The shorter woman looking rather nervous and remorseful about her role in the attack.

Something had unlocked in Janet when she’d asked her ‘Daddy’ to spank her. A reverting of psyche, the Wasp acting almost infantile in her mannerisms, sounding quite genuinely sorry when being spanked. Whimpering tears bubbled down her cheeks, and unlike Spider-Woman she was chanting ‘Thank you, Daddy’ with each hard hitting smack to her pert behind. Mark’s palm was able to hit both cheeks on the superheroine much easier than Jessica’s, but the firmness of her peach made him want to hit her more. Like he was tenderizing her for his fun later. Carol wondered where she’d fall in the current two woman spectrum, firm like Jan or jiggly like Jess… and which did Mark prefer? It was a thought that purveyed even through Carol’s scorn of herself.

To finish with the papa act, Mark treated Wasp to a small hug after he was done. The crowd gave an ‘awww’ and the grown woman thanked him one last time before she went over to stand by Spider-Woman.

Monica and Thor were third. While she’d been ignoring them so far, Carol had to see a God be spanked.

For some reason the Wakandans had had the boys strip all the way back down again. Steve looked downright adorable, the brawny Boy Scout Out of Time, stood there waiting his turn like her in all his sculpted beefcake glory, completely nude. His hands were clasped protectively over his groin, a blush creeping up his neck even as the sun glinted off his sculpted glutes.

But her attention quickly focused on Thor.

The Mighty Thor, Odinson, God of Thunder – was taking a humiliating pose on all fours before Ramonda. His golden locks, usually flowing majestically, now hung limply around his broad, bare shoulders, framing a back that resembled a granite mesa carved with sculpted muscles. Back straight, his big muscular ass was to the crowd as Ramonda brought her hand down onto it with big dramatic slaps that reverberated throughout the square.

There was a gaggle of Wakandan women pressing in close from the crowd, leaning over the ledge and grasping his ankles and feet, ogling the space between his brawny thighs where his well endowed package hung (Carol hadn't seen it but a number of her teammates and super-heroine colleagues had been on the receiving end of 'the hammer', so she knew he was pretty huge just from the usual gossip). The black ladies were practically crawling over one another like a pack of wild dogs fighting over a scrap of meat, reaching for the dangling object of their collective desire.

Carol thought she couldn't see it, but a glance upwards showed that the entirety of the towering hologram had been dedicated to a single 'groin-camera' view. Thor's dick, usually hidden beneath his armor, was now on full display. It was a sight to behold – a thick, uncircumcised shaft that hung like a slab of meat between his tree-trunk thighs, still encased in the sausage casing of its sheath up to the very nose of his fat bulbous glans.

The whole scene was disturbingly hot – Ramonda's voluptuous frame bent over the mighty Thor, spanking him like a common criminal, while around him a sea of Wakandan women swarmed, jostling and pushing each other for a better view.

It was utterly degrading for him, yet at the same time oddly erotic for Carol. She felt a stirring in her loins as she watched Ramonda's palm connect with Thor's muscular rear yet again, a tiny shudder of arousal that made her bite her lip as the sharp repeated movements sent the once-queen's massive chocolate melons swinging like wrecking balls, the golden nipple jewelry jangling musically. The huge bulk of his body dwarfed the Wakandan matriarch, yet she was effortlessly dominating him in front of all these people, subjecting him to her will as though he were no more than a hapless schoolboy in detention.

Then again, maybe it was just as erotic for Thor. On the towering twenty-foot holographic screen, his broad shovel-like cockhead had emerged fully from his foreskin and his whole cock was jerking and swelling with every smack of Ramonda's palm.

This was so totally fucked up. So why was she watching it so closely? Why was her clit throbbing in time with each smack of Ramonda's palm, begging to be touched? Why were her own cheeks burning with a strange, perverse excitement as she watched Thor's erection grow with each stinging blow?

Big black tits swinging like heavy gourds from side to side, Ramonda's softly rounded stomach was a testament to her maternal and nurturing charm, blending seamlessly with her wide hips that spoke to her baby-birthing fitness.

Carol could only wonder if Frigga ever punished her son like this in Asgard. Tony used to joke that about Loki’s spankings whenever they beat him. It would really be a humiliating deterrant to the viking god of lies.

As Ramonda's hand landed with a sharp crack against Thor's muscular backside, she paused, her fingers deftly reaching to grasp his substantial balls, pulling them into full view of the onlookers. There was more than enough sac there for her to stretch them out horizontally past his raised buttocks like grotesque, misshapen plums.

"Look at these, you pathetic excuse for a god," Ramonda's voice boomed across the square, laced with venomous mockery. "These overstuffed balloons are filled with nothing but rancid Asgardian seed, fit only for the gutters." With a cruel twist, she squeezed the base of his sac, forcing the already bulging testicles to strain against the taut skin. A collective gasp rose from the crowd, their eyes glued to the obscene sight.

"Such a pathetic display," Ramonda sneered, her voice dripping with disdain. "These balls, so much larger than a mere human's, yet holding such impotent… cargo." She punctuated her words with a sharp slap to Thor's balls, sending a tremor through his entire frame. His dick was so excited by the treatment that it pressed up against the ceiling of his abs like a saluting soldier, straining painfully against its bonds.

Carol has no idea what was even going on here. What even was the plot here supposed to be?

This was Thor! The stoic, dependable Thor, her teammate, her friend. And yet he was just letting his most private parts be humiliated in public.

And the expression on Thor's face? It was an alien sight. Shamefaced, bashful arousal, a look she'd never imagined gracing the face of the mighty Asgardian god. It was almost comical, like witnessing a seasoned warrior caught fumbling with a stolen kiss.

He was practically moaning like a bitch in heat, his fat cock positively quivering with need, oozing copious amounts of pre-cum from its swollen tip.

And why was Carol so fucking wet?

Ramonda was scoffing and tossing his balls from hand to hand like overripe fruit.

"Asgardian seed is weak. Decades of couplings for a single conception?" She addressed the crowd, "Sounds like their women need a real Markandan mutant stud to crack open those impenetrable eggs. Maybe a state visit from our King would be in order? What say you?" She shouted at the Markandans.

The audience, following her lead, agreed. They shouted, they cheered, they chanted King Mark's name with ardor.

"And you, Thor?" She asked as she reached under him to grab bloated dick.

As Ramonda squeezed Thor's shaft between her fingers, more of his pre-cum spilled forth. It dribbled onto her hand like warm, slippery sap. As her palm slid up and down his cock, she continued to knead his balls, squishing and spreading them apart, rubbing her thumb along the base of his sac, teasing the sensitive nerve endings.

"Well?" She demanded, squeezing his balls harder this time.

"Verily... a visit from the King of Markanda... such an honor for Asgard... the women... they would be... honored... ooooh..." Thor gasped as Ramonda's grip tightened further, his voice trailing off into a pained whimper.

Carol caught on to the point behind this little derail when she saw Ramonda's gaze flick upwards to Mark and the former Queen’s cruel smile became one of brilliant triumph.

Monica was across the Mark's lap and she was currently wriggling her ass petulantly as the King's focus was entirely on Thor's humiliation, his own hand absently toying with Monica's backside while his eyes remained glued to the scene below.

This wasn't about Thor at all. It was about Mark's slaves’ obsessive need to acquire his attention and approval. Ramonda was using Thor as a prop to garner said attention so she could get what she wanted.

"Hear that, your majesty?" The woman purred like a cat who'd just gotten its milk, "Thor offers Asgard's finest pussies up as tribute!"

"Hmmmm." Mark mulled, hand resting on Monica's asscheek, idly rolling her black globe like he was checking its ripeness. "That's nice of him." He assured, giving Monica's booty a light spank that made the Black woman moan. “And I’m just lovin’ the job your doing, mama.”

Ramonda positively glowed as she swiftly swung those mammoth boobs around, turning back to her toy god, "Now, Asgardian! Empty those useless balls onto the ground and nourish the soil of Markanda! Show everyone your proper place in this land as a non-mutant cur! Join your black brothers in service and relinquish your pathetic genetic legacy!"

Thor stared down at the ground and in his naked shame he did just that.

Carol watched in amazement as Thor, a proud god of the Norse pantheon, willingly reached down and began to jerk off.

The holographic display became a live-feed of frantic self-gratification, the image magnified to obscene proportions. Thick veins bulged on Thor's massive brawny arm as he stroked himself with a fury born of both shame and a primal urge. His fist pumped up and down his length as his breaths came in short, ragged gasps.

As Thor's guttural moans grew louder, a white geyser erupted from his member on the screen that seemed almost comical in its ****. The sheer volume of it, splattering onto the tiles like a paint explosion, was almost obscene. Yet, something about the primal, animalistic nature of it all struck a chord within her.

As quick as his release had been to arrive, it was long and lasting, pulsating jets of Asgardian semen scattered into the ground, creating a glistening white puddle worthy of a small lake, spreading wider and wider until it threatened to spill over onto the feet of the nearby onlookers.

Thor had never looked so undignified and disheveled before. With his head buried in the ground, his blonde locks splayed out wildly, his hips thrusting reflexively into his hand, he looked every inch the **** rutting beast Ramonda had accused him of being.

Carol's mind was in a state of flux. The situation was degrading, cruel, and wrong. Yet, the raw power on display, the primal dominance of Ramonda, and the sight of a powerful god brought low by his own biology… it had undeniably awakened something within her.

As the scene unfolded, Carol found herself unconsciously clenching her own buttocks, a wave of heat rushing through her core. The thought of being on the receiving end of such a dominant display, of being **** to submit in such a public way, sent a thrill through her.

Tearing her eyes away from the lower level, she looked over to Mark’s superior white hand finally dominating Spectrum in earnest. Her bare brown booty clapping with jiggling mass with each smack of her Daddy’s punishment. There was a strained look on her face, with Mark already slowing the pace of his hand to a crawl.

Turns out, Monica had missed something vitally important: her ‘thank you’s.

“Resistance is cute.” Mark exhaled. His face almost showing a level of respect for the Avenger. Instead of smacking, he rubbed along her clearly gushing slit, soaking his fingers before smearing her own juices on her bountiful backside. “But this is not a time to disrespect me.”

A barrage of slaps suddenly rained down upon Monica. Not even giving her a chance to yell out anything. Teeth that had been holding back saying anything were now barely holding back her screams of pleasure after just a few climactic strikes. Pain rippled through her with no mercy. She could barely breath, Mark was assaulting her booty so quickly and so hard that it would no doubt be painful to sit on her rear for a week.

Somewhere amongst the screams were potential words. “I’m sorry!” “Thank you!” “Please!” Any magic words she could think of to get Mark to show her poor bruised bottom a shred of pity, but she knew she didn’t deserve it. Attacking him then trying to disrespect him? Monica would have spanked herself hard too.

Her punishment crescendoed to a full blown climax when Mark paused his smacking to ram two fingers into her winking starfish. Monica’s masochistic mind giving in to the sudden switch to pleasure immediately. Squirting her juices for the camera across her and Mark’s legs.

“Thank you… thank you… thank you…” the melted Spectrum moaned. A psychic push in her head told her to start flying. When she did, Mark easily picked her up from the back of her clothes and tossed the super hero towards her companions. Spider-Woman catching the heap of woman and struggling to help her stand while the rebellious bitch was still experiencing orgasmic aftershocks.

And then, it was time for Carol.

An adult, the strongest hero, a kree warrior, none of these life achievements meant anything now. She was now just a child being disciplined. Her arms on his throne’s armrest, letting everyone see her ample sized posterior being gently fondled by Mark’s manly hands. Spreading her slit for the nearby camera, much to her teeth grinding chagrin.

“Why are you here, Carol?”

“I lead the team that attacked a perfect utopia in Markanda. Disrupting the peace for nothing but my own antiquated ideas of normality. Using my above average strength to enact my own will, arrogantly bullying a populace and their beloved King.”

“And what do you want me to do?”

“My ass deserved to be punished. Please spank me, Daddy Mark. Discipline me into being a better person, so I may learn my lesson.”

“How many spanks?”

“At least 100.”

Again, she meant every word. Her belief dripped through her mind, yet the fact she felt so humiliated by it crossed a lot of wires inside of her. Not that it mattered as Mark began his ****.

“Thank you.” SPANK! “Thank you.” SPANK! “Thank you.” SPANK!

Each ripple was broadcast around the world. As much as the news would call it a tragedy, Carol knew there’d be thousands of limp dicked men jerking off to her humiliating display. Yet it excited her. A newfound enjoyment knowing that her disciplining would be repeated on porn sites forever, even if she broke free, showing exactly how red her ass needed to be for her to accept her punishment.

The fact that Mark wasn’t breaking his palm on her immovable ass showed how strong a King he really was. Carol had never been spanked before, avoiding it as a child and thinking it to be far too misogynistic as an adult. Yet right now she could see the appeal. Pain and pleasure mixing, a sizzling dryness on her ass contrasting with the wet aches of her pussy, each spank shooting electricity through her body, and also was another reminder of how far she’d fallen.

“Thank you for the punishment, master.” Carol finally was allowed to stand up, though she faltered on weak legs and stumbled into him.

Mark hummed at her failure, stroking her hair and making her whimper, “Aww, you’re a good girl, Carol. If you all promise to be better, I’ll let you drink my cum, deal?”

“I promise, I’ll be a good girl from now on. Mm~” Captain Marvel moaned at his touch.

“M-Me too! I promise!” Wasp quickly chimed in.

“I swear it…” said Monica, the three of them turning to the less broken Jessica with hope in their eyes.

She may not have been as excited, but she could see a losing war when she saw it. Or she was just weak to peer pressure. “Fine. We all promise to be ‘good girls’.”

The four of them quickly got to kneeling before Daddy Mark, licking and sucking his tip for their reward for surviving such a harsh punishment.

Yet again Carol returned from her vision prison only to find her body more enflamed with passionate feelings. The blonde’s skin was crackling with power as Mark’s cock filled her with physical energy. Her absorption abilities, still somehow activating, yet even with all her new strength she held no desire to harm Mark or his citizens.

Probably a deeply ingrained mind order, yet her heart still believed it to be true.

Flipping her over, Carol got the full effect of his eyes boring into her own. That conquerors vision, that kingly grin, Mark was fucking her missionary with The Avengers behind him, and no part of Carol could deny the awe the image inspired.

He was at the perfect angle now to fuck her whole pussy. With big strokes, Mark could illicit a moan from Carol every time, digging from the entrance of her slit to the depths of her cervix with just one long thrust of his cock. Also able to give her tiny memory flashes with just the single climatic ravage.

It almost felt like these flashes of her time in Markanda were becoming the building blocks of her psyche in real time. The time of her life during the military and the Avengers were those of a different era, of a different Captain Marvel. Perhaps now it was time to embrace Captain Concubine, defender of Markanda.

Memories were cascading together quickly now. Her ass felt raw and her heart felt confused. Images of repetitive loss, overlapping each other in a mess of emotions. She was losing to Mark, then T’Challa, then an average Markandan woman, then Hawkeye?

As Mark began to speed up, Carol moaned his name more and more. Seeing more times of her utter failure pile up in her mind with each slam of her cervix.

SLAM!

“Cap! No!”

“How could you betray us?!”

”Hail Markanda.”

SLAM!

Back and forth. Back and forth. Each swing made her plunge her fingers deeper into her pussy, pull on her nipple just that little bit harder. Back and forth. Back and forth. Fires of lust and love inflaming with every second she stared at the gigantic pendulum.

”Dammit… Tony’s nanobots… couldn’t prepare for this?” She struggled, but to no avail. Carol had to watch it swing back and forth, back and forth.

Her team was similarly on their knees in a line. Every Avenger masturbating hard to the image in front of them. Back and forth. So utterly defeated, yet completely subservient after just a few minutes of the beautiful sight.

Who would have guess that Mark had a hypnotic cock?

SLAM!

"It’s the last day of the petting zoo, everyone!" Announced the Markandan zookeeper, much to the loud moans of her guests, “I know! It is truly sad, but they will be going back to our King tonight before a new Avengers show. Be sure to make them feel as loved as possible!”

The animal labelled ‘Cat Danvers’ understood none of this. She was too busy trying to lick her itchy pussy, but couldn’t quite get the angle right.

“Here, let me help you, kitty cat~” Said a helpful caretaker, happily guiding her over to the ‘Dog of Thunder’. His massive cock was already erect as he panted happily to himself, and after seeing the cat present herself he rammed himself into her itchy area. It helped a lot, turning her into the mewling feline, shuddering at the raw rampant strength of the well toned and blonde canine.

Had she the wherewithal, the cat may have noticed it was cross species mating season right now. ‘Monica the Ram’ was bleating from ‘Captain Ape-Merica’ and his gorilla strength mating press. ‘Spider-Wom-Ham’ was sloppily slurping down ‘Hawk-Guy’s’ smaller cock, nearby to ‘Waspbunny’ and ‘Snake Wilson‘ coiling around each other.

But the animal didn’t think about it. Instead she just meowed loudly enough that her ears nearly fell off her head, hands balling up from sheer pleasure as the dog ran rampant in the pussy.