Before Carol could spit out another word, Marshall's hands clamped her skull, thumbs pressing just under her forehead. He simply tilted her head back against the door and fed his cock straight past her lips.
This was new. So weird and new. Her eyes flew wide. The sudden stretch burned at the corners of her mouth. Her tongue flattened instinctively under the heavy underside as the swollen head dragged along it, painting her taste buds with salty beads of precum.
He didn't stop. Inch after thick inch followed, relentless, until the blunt crown nudged the back of her throat and kept going.
"Ooooommmmph!"
Carol's hands shot up on reflex, palms slapping against his thighs. Half to push him, half just to brace herself. She felt every vein glide over her tongue, every ridge catching lightly on the roof of her mouth. Her jaw ached already, stretched wide. And still he pushed, slow and merciless, until her nose mashed into the coarse hair at his root.
She felt it deep in her gullet. She couldn't breathe, couldn't think. Only feel his shaft throbbing against her tongue, swelling thicker, sealing her airway.
"Ngh!"
The gag rippled up her gullet. Her whole body jerked, throat clamping down around his cock. Saliva flooded her mouth, spilling hot and messy over her lower lip, dripping in shiny strings onto the front of her uniform.
Carol's throat convulsed around him. Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes, not from pain, but from the sheer overwhelming fullness. Her chest heaved, lungs burning.
This wasn't her plan. She was supposed to be in control, her choice. Not this crude animal claiming against Howard's office door. Anger flared in her chest. She glared up at him through watery eyes, cheeks flushed, lips swollen and glistening around his cock.
Carol sucked in another ragged breath the moment his cock slipped back to her mouth, but the relief lasted only a second. Her mouth gulped the drool, forcing her to suckle on his tip. The raw ache at her core suddenly grew sharper. She hated how her body responded. Hated even more that part of her that didn't want him to stop.
"Now we're talking. Roll that tongue on it," Marshall said with amusement.
His fingers tightened in her hair again, and then he started truly fucking her face.
Each thrust slammed forward until his pubes scraped her upper lip, his balls swinging to tap her chin. Then he pulled back slow enough for her tongue to drag along the thick underside, letting her taste every musky inch before he rammed in again.
Glurk! Glurk!
She choked and gagged repeatedly. Spit poured from the corners of her splayed lips, dripping in shiny ropes down her chin, soaking her slender neck.
Carol's eyes watered harder, tears streaking her flushed cheeks. But in the blur, she could see his face. Head tipped back slightly, jaw slack with raw pleasure. An actual god was losing his calm because of her mouth.
Strange pride bloomed hot in her chest. She'd done that. The stuck-up test pilot no one ever touched. She felt it coil low in her belly, right alongside the shameful throb between her thighs.
Without thinking, her fingers stubbornly dug into the firm meat of his ass. She started moving, pushing her face forward to meet each slam, tongue curling greedily around the swollen crown every time he pulled back far enough. She sucked harder, hollowing her cheeks.
Thunk! Thunk!
Her head knocked rhythmically against the cold metal door behind her as he fucked her harder. The impacts rattled her brain, but she didn't fight it anymore. She was breathless, dizzy, strands of blonde hair slipping free from their tight military bun until the whole thing broke free around her face and shoulders.
"Damn! You're pretty with hair down!" Marshall laughed.
The words landed like a spark in her lower belly.
Heat raced up her neck, flushing her cheeks darker. She didn't know why those crude words made her feel so… good. But they did. Her nipples ached against the damp fabric of her bra. Between her legs, her untouched pussy clenched, hot juices dripping steadily down the insides of her thighs. She felt pleasure, even needing more of it.
And then she felt his cock throb, right against her tongue. The vein along his underside pulsed violently against her lower lip. She knew what it was.
"Drink it all! Good soldiers… always swallow! Dammit… tight throat!" he snarled.
Finally, she felt the First Man ram it all in, grinding hard. Her head was shoved flat against the door behind. She felt his cock flex, once, twice, then erupted in her throat.
The first jet splashed the back of her throat so hard she choked instantly. Thick cream coated her tongue, viscous and salty-sweet, flooding her mouth faster than she could swallow. Her nose flared. She tried to gulp it all down, but it was too much, too slow; sticky globs backed up, forcing their way past her lips in long, filthy strings with every shallow thrust he kept giving her.
Spurt! Srlk! Slurrp–!
He fucked her mouth through his release, smearing godly batter and spit across her cheeks, her chin, even her hair. Foam bubbled and frothed at the corners of her lips.
Finally, the First Man pulled free with a wet, slimy tug.
His cock glistened, still rock-hard, still angry-red and veined, dripping the last pearly drops onto her swollen lower lip. That grin of his looked down at her cum-ruined face.
"Time for the main course."
"You meh-an… here?" She asked in surprise, words slurring from her numb lips.
He didn't even answer; Carol already found herself pulled to her feet and turned around, facing the door. His broad hand planted between her shoulder and pushed down, forcing her back to arch and lean, hands on the door. Her smooth ass jutted out, legs trembling.
"Oh!"
The cool office air suddenly kissed her delicious legs as he yanked her uniform pants and panties down in one rough tug, leaving them on her ankles.
Carol gasped and looked down. Her inner thighs were already gleaming, shameful evidence of how wet she'd gotten just from choking on him.
Before she could process it, she heard him drop to his knees behind her with a heavy thud. Hot breath ghosted over her drenched lower lips. Then she suddenly felt his warm, slithering tongue drag a slow, wide lick from clit to entrance, flattening against her sensitive nub and gathering every drop of her nectar.
"Ooooh!"
She'd never felt anything like it. So filthy, so good. She couldn't help the buzzing sensation running up her spine; she wanted more. No, she needed more.
"Sweet! But I ain't waiting!" he muttered against her pussy.
Carol heard the rustling as he stood back up again.
She felt the blunt, dripping head of his cock tap once, twice against her virgin entrance. Her hands curled into white-knuckled fists against the door. She squeezed her eyes shut. Heart hammering, thighs shaking. Every nerve screaming in dread and perhaps, anticipation...
"Here comes the… one and only, holy cock…! Damn tight!"
"Aaaaaaah!" Carol bucked and nearly screamed at the sensation.
Her spine snapped into an arch as the thick, blunt tip of his cock split her open. The stretch was raw, splaying her like leather nailed to a rack. Her virgin depth gave way, walls quivering in panic around his girth. She felt every ridge, every throbbing inch as he kept sliding deeper without mercy, splitting her apart.
"Ungh!"
She felt it; something tore inside. Sharp, fleeting sting, gone in a heartbeat. The virgin barrier she'd never even thought about, shredded under the First Man's relentless press. No romance. Just the wet, irreversible claim burying itself to the root. At least, it was to a god, she thought.
"Aaaaah! So… big!"
She hated the needy sound of her own voice. She'd sworn she'd stay silent, keep her pride behind clenched teeth. But the desperate words spilled anyway, as another thick inch sank home.
But it was true, he was so big, too much. Each slow inch he fed her stretched her toned belly from the inside, a hard, hot bulge she could almost feel pressing against her own skin. It felt foreign, like something that shouldn't be inside her, so deep, so hard, and scorching hot.
"Gaaaah! All in! What's the review, soldier?"
Carol groaned. "I… Can… take it."
"Alright,"
Thunk!
She felt his rough hand clamped around her nape, shoving her face forward until her cheek and jaw flattened brutally against the door. And then, she heard it.
Plap–!
She couldn't see, but she felt everything. The first full, savage thrust slammed deep. His hips crashed into the firm roundness of her ass, balls swinging heavy against her sensitive kernel.
Her soaked pussy lips dragged back and forth along his glistening length with every push and pull, petals clinging to his girth, walls sucking like her life depended on it. She felt the obscene tug-of-war in her own pussy, trying to keep him inside while he pulled out. Only to ram back in even deeper, swollen tip knocking at the entrance of her womb.
His other free hand slid down the cleft of her ass. A thick finger circled her untouched back door, pressing just enough to make her shudder and clench everywhere at once.
She gritted her teeth harder. Pride still clinging to her bones. She would never sur—
Pa!
But it shattered when his palm cracked across one pale asscheek. Heat bloomed instantly, a stinging ache that raced straight to her swollen, sensitive nub.
"Gaaaah! Oh! I… it feels weird!"
"That's called an orgasm, soldier. At ease and just enjoy."
She knew the word. But she never felt it before, never bothered wanting to. Her legs suddenly felt like jelly. A molten pressure coiled in her belly, strangling. Every brutal plunge of his cock punched against something inside that made it even more unbearable. Her walls started to flutter, then clamp, then ripple in waves.
She came like a dam bursting.
Clear, hot nectar gushed from her in squirts. First one, a hard jet that sprayed against his plunging shaft and splattered the floor, then another. Her pussy spasmed wildly around him, milking, flooding. The puddle grew under their feet, spreading across polished stone. Her thighs shook, knees buckling; only his grip on her neck and the thick cock pinning her to the door kept her upright.
She cursed under her breath, her eyes squeezed shut in burning shame. This wasn't her. This wasn't how it should be. Not like a broken faucet.
First Man didn't slow down. If anything, he went faster.
Squelch! Plap! Squelch!
Marshall stared down at the sight. Her ass was firm, athletic, barely any give when his hips slammed home, but the way it jiggled with each impact made his balls tighten harder. Pale skin already blooming pink from his handprint. Her tight pussy gripped him like a fist, so wet it slurped with every thrust, creamy froth coating his shaft and dripping in thick strings.
"Gonna… pump it all in!"
"What?!"
"Easy… my little tadpoles don't work on humans."
He kept her cheek mashed against the door and used the angle to grind deeper. His other arm snaked around her waist, thick fingers finding her swollen clit and rubbing in merciless circles. He fucked her through the aftershocks and made her dance helplessly on tiptoes as her legs gave out again and again.
It didn't take long. She shattered a second time, harder and wetter.
His cock was enjoying the smooth slip and slide.
"Mmmm! I… can't feel my legs or… insides." Her whole body jerked, thighs quivering, another smaller gush of slick dripping.
"Welcome to the club, Carol," Marshall chuckled and slammed to the hilt one last time.
Jet after thick jet of hot cream flooded every nook and cranny of her inner walls. His hips jerked with each spurt, grinding deep until she was stuffed thoroughly. It was so much it couldn't all stay inside, spurting out around his buried cock with every pulse, splattering her inner thighs, dripping in globs to join the puddle already cooling on the floor.
He stayed buried to the root and kept grinding deep. One massive palm flattened hard against her lower belly, pressing inward so she could feel the sinful bulge of his cock shifting under her skin.
"Oh god… you're… breaking me!"
"No need to thank me," Marshall replied. His hands slid up under her rumpled shirt, fingers shoving her tight bra out of the way, and cupped her small, firm breasts. His thumbs flicking over stiff nipples. "Next time, let's do it on a bed. "
"Yeah… Wait, next time? I don't want a next time."
Plop!
He pulled out with a wet slosh. The sudden emptiness made her pussy clench, a flutter that sent another trickle of their mess sliding down her inner thighs.
Carol's legs gave out instantly. She dropped to her knees right into the sticky puddle on the floor.
"We'll see about that," Marshall said as he summoned his clothes again. He stepped over to Howard's liquor cabinet, plucked another bottle of whiskey like he owned the place, and took a long swig.
"I'm a mess. How am I going to clean myself?" Carol panicked.
Marshall glanced down at her, something almost like pity flickering in his eyes. "Get up. I'll do it."
Carol tried. She really tried. Her arms shook as she gripped the doorknob, hauling herself upright on trembling legs. She yanked her pants and panties back up, cold and filthy now. Her hair hung in sticky strands, face blotchy, lips swollen. She looked exactly like what she was, thoroughly fucked.
Snap!
He snapped his fingers for the dramatics. In an instant, the mess vanished from her uniform as if it had never happened. Her face smoothed out too, flushed cheeks cooling, tear tracks gone. Pristine again, almost.
"Can't do anything about the hair," he shrugged.
She shot him a death glare, but her hands were already moving. She twisted the tangled mess back into a hasty bun. The truth was, he could fix her hair, but he just didn't bother. Because he liked that messy, flushed, ruined look.
"Let's go." Marshall walked towards the door, bottle in hand.
"Wait! What about the mess on the floor?" Carol asked, face red in shame as she gestured weakly at the floor. There was so much, a wide, glossy puddle. Clear, red-ish nectar from her climaxes swirled with thick ropes of his spill. It was impossible to miss.
"Eh, forget it. Gift for Howard. I'm too busy anyway. Gotta go to Central Park and play catch with Marty."
"..."
She didn't argue and followed the god out of the room while closing the door.
The office fell silent behind them. Empty, but a noise suddenly came from underneath the office table.
Creak!
The heavy chair behind Howard's desk moved. A figure peeked out from underneath it like he'd been waiting for the perfect moment.
A boy looked over the edge of the desk. Dark hair, wide, gleaming eyes. A smug grin split his face. His faded t-shirt proudly bore the Stark Industries logo across the chest.
"First Man… What an animal! Hell… fucking… yeah!!"
####
New York, Manhattan
Emma Frost felt all alone. Years of hiding her powers, years of being ignored, years of being hated by her own family, and then loathed by the man she liked. She felt broken at twenty-one.
And finally, when her family learned about her powers, what they did was more than cruel. They threw her in a mental institution. She was drugged there, kept in a state where she couldn't do anything.
She spent half her days asleep, the other half strapped to a chair. Emma had lost all hope and will to live. And in her little room, which she saw as a prison, she made up her mind to end it all. There was no point in living like this. No real human connection, nobody to talk to, it was just misery.
Patiently, she devised a plan. She used a plastic spoon and chipped it to be sharp and pointy enough. All she needed to do was jam it in her throat. It was strong enough for that.
She didn't really think much at that moment. She just wanted to escape the institute at any cost. She felt scared of using her powers for some reason. She had a tiny window in her room. She could have escaped through it. But she never tried.
Emma had built a prison around her own mind, entrapping herself.
That morning, she decided to do it. She placed her chair facing the tiny window. She saw the sky one last time and sat down, holding the shank against her own neck. She didn't shiver, didn't cry. Just stared at the window.
"Don't even have someone to say goodbye to."
Finally, she closed her eyes and pressed the shank. She felt it. Its tip was very sharp and…
BOOM!
She thought her life would collapse in silence. But the opposite happened. Somehow, for some reason, when she opened her eyes, all she saw was that her cell's window wall had collapsed entirely. The ceiling lights had also fallen.
There was dust everywhere, and near her slender feet, a strange stone ball the size of a football rested. She looked at it in confusion, then at the opening in the wall. Her cell was on the 20th floor. She reckoned she could jump and…
Woosh!
Before her thoughts could complete, she saw a man in strange, ancient clothing fly into her tiny room. His hair was blonde, and his beard was short and rough. His eyes were big, his lips curved in a big smile full of life and happiness, the very opposite of hers.
"F-First Man!" She recognized him very quickly.
"Fuck my actual life! Apologies, ma'am. That fatass Marty yeeted the damn ball into goddamn orbit again."
"..."
For no reason, tears slid down Emma's face. What sort of strange turn of events was this? God came to save her? Or was this a mere coincidence? Whatever the reason was, she lost her grip on the shank.
"Fuck! Don't cry. It's just a wall. I'll slap a fresh one together before your tears dry."
"No… No, no… Thank you," Emma cried. Seeing the First Man, she remembered something. A place where mutants were welcomed.
"Alright… I guess."
"No!" She jumped to her feet right when First Man was about to leave. "Take me with you! I'm a mutant! They're holding me against my will! Please! Please, First Man!"
"They're what now?"
Emma recoiled in disbelief at the sudden shift in energy and air. The First Man looked furious and… never before had she seen someone get angry for her.
It was almost… heartwarming.
___________________
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