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Marvel: Upgrading Death 20 - Marty-oid, Spygirl Magic & Hope
🕑 Added 2025-11-15 18:07:01 +0000 UTCDoc - https://docs.google.com/document/d/1_Cyc95yUVTvRDmzMThb-MIwLt1Q0QDqRJ1ANqYbOER0/edit?usp=sharing
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Margaret Elizabeth Carter, commonly called Peggy, had arrived at Dinosia. But that was one year ago. Her job was quite simple: go to a location, meet someone, discuss the war, and return.
Sadly, the person she was supposed to meet this time had changed all the equations. How do you even set a meeting with a god? How do you even influence a god's decisions? Hell, how do you even speak to someone who most certainly can read your thoughts?
So, Peggy struggled a lot. She didn't bother trying to blend in or act in secrecy because she was quite sure Dinosia's intelligence and law enforcement agency knew about her. Besides, there were so many superpowered beings on the island nation. Women with wings, the Inhumans, the mutants.
So, instead of just seeking the First Man, she also approached some powerful superpowered beings of Dinosia. She told them about Hitler and what was going on outside. Sadly, the response she always got was the same.
"Are you crazy?"
"First Man will kill me!"
"Who cares?"
"Got no time."
Peggy quickly realized that Dinosians didn't consider themselves the same as the rest of the world. Because Dinosia never started a war, they didn't consider any outside war their concern either.
That meant she was back on the same mission, to meet the First Man.
####
Azul S. Grant, better known as Apocalypse, hated politics.
He'd lived in Dinosia all his life for thousands of years, and he still called it his precious home. He knew from the beginning that he was immortal and different. So, he spent his life studying various things.
The first thing he started was trying to trace his father's footsteps. Create the world's largest collection of artifacts related to the First Man. Cave paintings, stone carvings, ancient texts, ancient abandoned temples.
He personally felt baffled at how ancient his father was. He'd spoken with his good uncle Marty, and the ancient T-Rex revealed that Marshall was far older than even the dinosaurs. When he asked his father personally, all he got was, 'I don't remember'.
He also studied the alien ship his father caught. He helped the scientists with it. However, the one thing he despised was politics. To him, it felt like the most wasteful way for a human to spend their time. Politics felt like an overly complicated process just to accomplish simple things.
Still, he found himself as the top guy in Dinosia, recommended by the various chairmen of different departments. The reason was also quite simple. In Europe, a man with a funny mustache was going around declaring he was trying to follow the First Man and turn Europe into a Dinosia.
While Dinosia didn't care, it still gave a bad name to the First Man. After all, Hitler prayed to the First Man in every single one of his speeches.
Azul's job was to deal with that.
"What does she want from Father?" He asked, looking at the photograph of the British agent that had been going around in Dinosia for a year.
"She’s not hiding much," Raven explained, as she headed the intelligence. "All she wants is to meet the First Man. I had telepaths go through her thoughts. No sign of hostility, unless she’s told otherwise."
"Then why the denial?" Azul asked, cruelly staring at the blue-skinned woman.
"I… The telepaths also found out that she's willing to go to any length to get the First Man to do something," Raven replied, being somewhat unconvincing at lying for someone in intelligence. "And knowing the First Man, he might accept her… terms."
Azul eyed the woman with a raised brow. He was far older than most beings on Earth. He could see through Raven easily. The woman longed for his father as most do, and she was protective of him. He didn't mind that, not at all. Her intentions were kind and thorough. But still, they were faulty.
"Are you saying that you are in a better position to decide what my Father should and shouldn't do?" Azul asked coldly.
"What? No, I would never!"
"That is what you chose to do. By hiding the truth from him, you have shaped his judgment. Remember this, Raven. We live in the world of the First Man, not the other way around. He has accepted women since the dawn of time. He has done things far beyond what you picture. He has wiped out whole civilisations. What you attempt now pushes against the course of nature, and it will turn on you in time. Take these words as either a lesson or a warning. The choice is yours. Do not let your feelings for my Father cloud your senses. Let the British spy face him. He will decide what must be done. It may even spare me the trouble of confronting this so-called savior of Europe."
Embarrassed, Raven nodded.
"I will… do that."
####
Marty S. Grant really loved everything and everyone around him. He no longer remembered the day he was born, nor his early days, since he wasn't intelligent back then. But from what he'd heard from Marshall back then, he was just an egg that somehow didn't end up on Marshall's plate.
As depressing as it was, the fact that Marshall let him hatch and then cared for him meant a lot. Marshall was like a father, friend, and brother all combined. He was supposed to be just an apex predator of his era, and now there he was, much more than just a T-Rex. He had friends, even nephews and nieces.
And every time he went to sleep, he dreamt of nothing but happy memories. This time as well, while he lay in his massive bed curled, he dreamt of racing Marshall through a massive field of flowers. He enjoyed the wind hitting his face, the scent of flowers.
And…
"Get up, boy!"
And that noise woke him up abruptly. He raised his big T-Rex head and looked, eyes half-asleep. Marshall stood there, holding a baby girl in his arms.
"Hruff?"
"Stop being lazy, Marty. We're going skydiving, and you're coming with me," Marshall declared.
Just like that, Marty rose to his feet for yet another adventure on yet another day. He really loved this weird lifestyle. There was no fear of finding and hunting food. All he had to do was ensure he was never bored.
"Grawwr hrrrr."
"You were dreaming about racing me? Hah, then we'll be racing in the sky instead. Let's see whose ass got more aerodyno-dicks… dynamite? Whatever!"
The trick about living with Marshall was ignoring half of the things he said. Marty had mastered that art a long, long time ago.
In mere moments, he walked out of the temple and jumped on top of Marshall's ancient wooden raft. He loved the little giggles baby Kael was making while sitting on Marshall's shoulder. She was still too young to understand how crazy her father was, so she was allowed to be around.
"Grrrr rawgh?"
"Hela? She trusts me enough. She knows I won't hurt my little Kael."
Before long, they neared the dark horizon of space. Marty was the more sane one and kept an eye on the little baby just in case she wasn't superhuman enough, which he doubted. Any child of Marshall could be anything but normal. Hell, even the adopted ones were weird, like Azul.
"Alright, ready to fucking jump?" asked Marshall.
Marty growled and nodded. Honestly, he didn't know what the plan was. He didn't have wings. He didn't have powers that would let him fly. But he trusted Marshall enough not to let him splatter on the ground.
"Damn right! It's time you get payback, my boy! That fucking meteor that took your folks, you're gonna be the meteor this time. Your fat ass gonna leave a massive crater, and for years it'll be known as Marty's Ass."
"..."
Marty really didn't want that.
"One!"
"Two!"
Three!"
"Go!"
Marty jumped without thinking. He was also excited, truth be told. He saw Marshall do the same, and baby Kael was in his arms. The girl was giggling, waving her little arms all around as they all dived, free-falling to the surface. They were over the middle of nowhere, somewhere in Africa.
"Weeeeeeee~"
Baby Kael screamed.
"Wraaaaaaa!" Marty roared.
"Wooohooooooo!" Marshall howled.
It was dumb, mindless fun. He'd been doing that for millions of years with Marshall since before the first humans appeared. To beat the boredom, they had to do random things, and they did. From free-fall to diving to the bottom of the ocean to find the deepest spot. They even competed once to dig with their bare hands and see who could dig the deepest in an hour. They'd also raced up mountains, down them. They'd tried to lift heavy boulders and then see who could throw them the farthest. They'd done so many random things that nothing new was left.
Yet, it was all still just as exciting and fun. As long as Marshall was there, Marty knew it was going to be a good day.
Soon enough, he noticed a strange red glow around himself and Marshall. He knew he looked like just that meteor that wiped out his species. He didn't remember it, but he had heard the stories. Hela had also shown it to him with her magic.
It saddened him, honestly. That was also why he loved the mammoths on that farm, as they were the closest to him in terms of old animal species that were still alive.
But then…
"Growr?"
"Stop? Hah! We ain't slowing one damn bit! As I barked earlier, your blasted ass will punch a mighty hole in the earth, and I'll push you!"
"..."
Marty stared at his father, friend, and brother with a confused and scared gaze. He knew he was a pretty special T-Rex and quite powerful. But he knew he wouldn't survive that fall. He'd splatter like those little creatures he splashed with his mighty foot.
"Raaaaaaawr!" He roared with fright.
"Hahaha! Don't you worry! I got you! Let's punch a fucking hole in mommy Earth!"
It was truly scary. Marty watched as the clouds vanished around him and the clear view of the land appeared beneath. But the worst part was that they weren't in the middle of nowhere anymore. No! They were right on top of the fucking triangles in that desert, and his ass was right on top of the largest one.
Yeah, Marty knew this one was going to hurt like hell. Even if Marshall somehow saved him, it would definitely hurt. He didn't have big enough arms, so he couldn't shield his eyes. Marty just closed them and waited for the landing to come.
He waited.
He kept waiting.
"Hurf?"
But then he realized something strange. He could no longer feel the air brush past his scaly body. He opened his eyes and looked around. Indeed, he was still in the air, at least a few hundred meters above the massive pyramid. However, he was no longer falling.
Wondering what was happening, he looked around. He reckoned Marshall had suddenly grown wisdom and halted their fall.
But what he saw shocked him as well.
Marshall was frozen midair, his big eyes wide open, his big grin also frozen. His hair was also frozen in the spiky position. Then Marty noticed the nearby birds, and they were also frozen. That was when he eyed little Kael.
The tiny baby was staring right back at him. Her eyes were shining like the sun, and… he knew it was her.
"Wraaaaagh?"
"Eaaaaah!" Baby Kael grinned, showing her single tooth.
And just like that, they started to fall again. Marshall's excited howl resumed as if it had never stopped. A few seconds later…
BOOM!
Marty found his ass landing on top of the largest pyramid and crater the massive thing. He remembered building the damn thing back in the day. Marshall had said it was going to be funny. Besides, Marshall used the building of the triangles to busy the pharaohs so he could bang their harems without a care of being found out, only to be found out and then worshiped for blessing the women's wombs.
Massive blocks of stone flew all around. The tip of the pyramid completely collapsed, caving in. His huge body truly created a crater right into the pyramid, turning it into something of a small mountain with a pit at its peak.
It took some time for the dust to settle.
"Bahaha! That was fucking fun! Marty, let's smash the other pyramids!"
"..."
Marty shook his head while getting up. It didn't hurt anywhere, thankfully. Marshall had kept him safe entirely. But he didn't want to experience that again. Moreover, little Kael's ability was more interesting.
"Rowah gruff grrrr huff."
"Huh?" Marshall frowned and raised baby Kael in front of his face like a certain monkey raising a lion cub. "This little one? She froze time?"
Marty nodded. Freezing time made the most sense. But he reckoned Marshall didn't believe him.
"My daughter can freeze time, holy Mephisto's ass on fire!"
Yeah, Marty realized he was wrong. Marshall was no normal man. The guy believed in everything.
"Eea?"
Baby Kael confusedly tilted her head, staring back at her father and…
Bzzzzzz!
Two beams of plasma lasers shot through Kael's eyes and smashed right into Marshall's eyes. Marty panicked for a moment, but then he heard Marshall howl in laughter.
“Bwahaha! And she blasts lasers from her eyes? Fuck yeah! That's my girl! My baby!"
"..."
"Marty, change of plans. I gotta show her off to Hela. And make Helvar jealous. That bastard's been doing nothing but trying to woo that redhead inhuman."
Marty nodded to that. Anything but making craters with his poor scaly ass.
So, they flew back to Dinosia, never realizing they were being watched by a German army contingent not too far away.
####
Dinosia, dungeons,
"Hello? Anybody?"
Mephista had arrived from her father's realm on earth years ago. But she failed to take into account how many powerful witches were in the First Man's harem. Her mistake was trying to reach Dinosia right away.
As soon as she entered Dinosia, she tripped on some sort of magical trap. In moments, she was surrounded by the fully armed Goddess of Death, Hela, those big-breasted sorceresses, Selene, and Morgan Le Fey. The three women instantly trapped her and threw her in the dungeons.
That was a few years ago.
"Come on, guys! I'm friendly! I just want to meet the First Man. He's so hot!"
She shouted and shouted. She could absorb energy from different dimensions, so it didn't worry her that she'd starve or die.
Still, being alone sucked.
"At least talk to me! Please?"
####
Dinosia, Temple of the First Man,
"Finally!"
Peggy Carter had at last secured a meeting with the First Man. And she didn't need to use any hidden means. It was going to be an official meeting between the First Man and the representative of the Allied military.
For that same reason, she had worn her official military uniform. But for now, she only had the US military uniform, so she wore that. It was quite simple: a simple white shirt, an olive green tie, a blazer of the same color, and a formal, modest skirt that reached a few inches below her knees. Though she was quick to adjust it higher, revealing more of her legs. She was quite aware of the First Man's colorful reputation.
She even tossed her hair sexily, put on some red lipstick, and dark eyeliner. After a year of nothing, she was frustrated, and to finish the mission, she was ready to go to any length. If it meant seducing a literal god, she was willing to take her chances.
You can do this, Peggy.
Finally, as she stood in front of the door, ready to knock, she took a deep breath in and jutted out her chest. She knew her breasts were large, something that most men were first to notice. Years of maintaining a rigorous physical schedule had carved her body into something most men drooled over.
Knock! Knock!
"Just walk in, dammit."
She heard the First Man's voice and froze for a second. Reality sank in; her years of military training meant nothing in that moment. This was a man who could destroy the entire planet if he felt like it. This was a man who'd guided humanity to evolution.
Nothing mattered to him. There was nothing she could do if he decided to support the enemy side.
With courage, Peggy turned the doorknob and entered. It was barely an office. What was it even? On one side, she saw a bed that resembled a military hospital bed. On the other side was a table with foldable chairs around it. That was it.
"Uh… Sir?" She eyed the First Man in flesh, and there was so much flesh on display. The man was sitting on the table, shirtless, holding his ancient-looking leather and fur mixed shirt. The ancient human god was in the midst of using a needle and some thread to sew a patch.
How do I address him? His Holiness?
"Ah, ain't you the spygirl?"
Finally, she felt the First Man's gaze land on her… all over her.
"Sweet baby Jesus, my skull is spinning. Didn't know they scooped up such fine ladies for the damned army. Pretty face, sweet curves. Ah, come, sit your glorious self down. Ignore this shitty room. Azul stole my office. This was the nurse's office? Was? Who knows, curse it, sewing is torture, but I love it because my cute Kael lasered this hole."
"..."
Speechless, Peggy walked over to the chair nearest to the First Man and sat down. The way they were, the human god was just a foot away, sitting on the table, his legs dangling towards her. She could taste his primordial scent on her lips.
She couldn't decide if she should be excited or worried. But spy instincts won, and she puffed out her chest, ensuring her feminine charm wasn't lost.
"Thank you for the compliments, Sir."
"Ah, forget it. Pretty ladies deserve them. Man, I love women. You know, it was just me and Marty for a few million years before you apes appeared. I watched you folk walk up straight, and then I gave you fuckers fire. Must've been one barbecue party because I don't remember shit."
"..."
Peggy stopped her jaw from falling. First Man spoke so fast, and his words, all of them, hid so much meaning behind them. Humans were apes, he taught humanity fire, and the confirmation that he was indeed the first First Man.
"That's flattering, Sir. I'm Margaret Elizabeth Carter, you can call me Peggy."
"Peggy? Hell, I swear I heard that name before. Shit, where was it? Poppy? Piggy? Panzer? Peppa Pig, Pizza? Fuck, brain's vaporized."
Peggy wanted to press about where he'd heard it, but chose to stick to the matter at hand."Sir, I was instructed to bring this to your attention. Someone is committing atrocities in your name. He claims to be your most loyal follower and is slaughtering entire towns. Mass concentration camps for anyone who disagrees with him. Race and religion mean nothing to him. If they don’t accept you as their religion, he ends their lives."
"Fuck! I sewed it wrong!"
"..."
"Sir?"
"Ha? Yeah, continue."
Peggy gulped, noticing how this was going nowhere. "His name is Hitler. He has already seized Poland, Hungary, Croatia, Romania, and Bulgaria. Greece is nearly gone. France has surrendered. Spain has fallen. Entire cities are drowning in blood. He has no interest in peace. He kills and destroys without restraint, and he does it while claiming it serves your purpose. The pyramid you crushed in Egypt recently, he claims it was your approval, that you're aiding his holy ambition."
"And?"
She did frown this time.
"Peggy, right? Why should I give a fuck what you apes do with your free will? I'm not your damned caretaker. You kill, you enslave, you pillage, then yank my name through your filth, and that insanity somehow makes it my damn business?"
"But he's ruining your name, Sir."
"Do I look bothered, Peggy? Do I look worried?"
"I…" Peggy rose when the First Man got up and put his shirt and needle away. His sheer presence, his body, the ruggedness of it, his serious bearded face, his steel-like bare chest made her take a step back.
"This is a plea. Innocent women and children are being killed simply because they refuse to call you their god. Only you can stop it. We are trying, but we are human, and Hitler is using ancient weapons unlike anything we have faced."
As the First Man kept walking towards her, she soon lacked any more room to step back and fell backwards on the bed with a creak of the springs. Was it intentional? Was it natural? She was overwhelmed by so many thoughts. Could she seduce him? Would anything even change?
"Please… they are hopeless." She made puppy eyes and squeezed her legs high sexily, resting her arms under her breasts.
Marshall stayed silent, his shadow swallowing the dim lamp-glow as he leaned over her.
Peggy’s breath quickened while she crept backward across the coarse wool blanket, the springs groaning under her until her head finally sank into the pillow.
His eyes never left her face, amused, a little cracked, until her knees bent and her heels dug into the mattress edge, offering herself up like a treat in trembling skin.
His hands started at her ankles, calloused palms gliding over the delicate bones, then up the smooth sweep of her shins. The military skirt bunched higher, fabric rasping against itself until it folded like a surrender flag at her waist.
Peggy’s pulse thumped like a frantic drum between her thighs.
“Ummmh…” The hum slipped out, vibrating in her throat. Power radiated from his fingertips, and it sank straight into her bones, melting resolve into liquid need.
He shoved the skirt the rest of the way, baring her completely below the waist save for the polished heels still strapped to her feet.
No panties, just the faint strip of dark curls crowning plush, swollen lips that guarded a slick pink seam already glistening with shameless invitation. The outer folds were puffy, flushed deep rose, and every tiny throb made that secret slit wink open, begging for it.
"Hmm…"
Peggy hummed, cheeks burning as his stare pinned her down harder than any touch. The First Man’s gaze devoured her cunt like it was an open menu of delicacies, and the weight of it alone sent a fresh gush of slick coating her entrance.
His right hand drifted higher, knuckles brushing her creamy inner thigh until two thick fingers settled over her mound. They parted her petals hungrily, sliding through the soaked heat, tracing the shape of her pussy before pressing inside.
The stretch was immediate. Her walls fluttered greedily around his digits, drenching his skin in warm honey.
“Oh… Sir–!”
The words cracked out of her as those fingers curled and pumped, scissoring gently to open her further. She was soaked, embarrassingly so, every thrust met with a wet squelch that echoed off the walls.
She feigned denial with a shake of her head, only to slightly widen her legs and give him more room. Her heels scraped the blanket as she offered more, chasing the friction.
“Ahh!” A true moan tore free when his knuckles grazed that sweet spot inside.
Her hips rolled shamelessly, riding his hand while her mind spun. This was a God, capital G, knuckles-deep in her, and she was dripping like a whore in church.
Trrrrrr!
"Aaaaaaah!"
Peggy cried out when the cold air slapped her chest. His left hand had seized the front of her uniform shirt and shredded it down the middle. Buttons pinged off metal bedposts like bullets. The black lace bra was yanked beneath her ribcage, and her famed melons spilled free. Heavy, ivory-pale orbs with wide, rosy areolas, crowned by stiff pink nipples that jutted ripe. They swayed with each heaving breath, soft and weighty, faint blue veins tracing beneath the satin skin.
"Mmmmmgh… So–"
The word dissolved into a broken whimper the instant his thumb and forefinger captured one nipple, rolling the sensitive bud.
A year without touch, and now lightning shot straight from her tit to her cunt. Her back bowed off the mattress, hips snapping upward as soaked walls clamped around his buried fingers. A rolling wave that crashed through her core.
Peggy shattered with a sharp cry, thighs quaking, pussy gushing over his hand in pulsing spasms while her nipples throbbed under his twisting pinch. Her toes curled inside the heels, every muscle locked in pure ecstasy.
Yet right at the peak, his fingers slipped free with a wet pop.
The First Man straightened, once again loomed over her.
Peggy’s climax suddenly dropped into frustrated aftershocks. She stared up at him, chest heaving, nipples hard and aching, slick cooling on her thighs, and caught sight of the sneer on his lips.
"Woman, you ain't the first spy to lure me with a hot pussy. I've played these games before."
Peggy's face burned red in shame. She shot upright on the creaking bed, ruined shirt gaping, nipples still stiff and shining. “I… Sir…”
"I'll consider your request if you're able to get me off on your own."
"..."
She watched, mouth dry, as the First Man kicked off his boots and shoved his trousers down in one impatient yank. The fabric pooled at his ankles, and he stepped free, naked, unashamed, cock swinging heavy between his legs like a war club. It was obscene, thick as her wrist in the middle, veins roping the shaft, the fat purple crown already slick with a bead of precum that caught the light and gleamed.
He dropped sideways onto the narrow cot, feet planted wide on the floor, shoulders and head flat on the mattress, that monstrous cock jutting straight at the ceiling like a challenge.
Peggy knew the script. No words needed.
She peeled the bunched skirt down her hips and let it fall, then shrugged off the shredded blazer and shirt, leaving only the tie dangling between her bare bosom like a leash. The heels stayed, clicking on the floor as she rose.
She turned, her back to him, and straddled his hips in reverse. Feet planted wide on the floor, palms braced on the ridged muscle of his thighs, she reached between her legs and caught the scalding, swollen cock. She took a deep breath, then she sank.
The first press split her open with a wet kiss. Her puffy lower lips parted around the flared head, pink folds stretching glossy and tight, swallowing him in a slow, greedy glide. Heat bloomed inside her, molten and overwhelming, the thick ridge popped past her entrance and dragged along every sensitive inch.
"Oooooooooh… So much!" Her unfinished climax still simmered, and the stretch lit fresh sparks that raced up her spine.
She moaned, and she was no longer feigning anything. She felt the warmth, the pure lust from that unfinished climax. She was chasing it as much as she wanted to give this God his own climax.
Lower she went, thighs trembling, the shaft prying her wider with every heartbeat. Inch after inch disappeared into her clutching petals, the slick sound of her pussy eating him was obscene in the quiet room. Her walls fluttered, trying to adjust, but he kept arriving. Thick, relentless, until his bulge formed a visible ridge low in her belly.
“Oh… You’re breaking me…” She withered, voice cracking, hips shaking as another inch speared deeper. Her pink petals stretched thin around his girth, glossy with her juices. She was no stranger to sex, but to this size… she was.
“Aaaaah… t-toooh much… stretch!” Every vein, every throb, she felt it carving through her. The head nudged something deep, kissing the mouth of her womb, shifting organs like he was rearranging her from the inside out.
Finally, her ass met his hips with a soft, wet slap. She was stuffed, impaled around the impossible length. A pulse throbbed against her cervix, and she swore she could feel him in her throat.
Peggy turned her head, hair sticking to damp cheeks, and met his lazy, cracked grin over her shoulder.
Then she started to move.
####
Plap! Plap!
Echoes of flesh on flesh drummed loudly, minutes of relentless rhythm already soaked into the air.
"Aaaaah!" Peggy kept moaning like a broken record of pleasure as she slammed herself down again and again.
Her ass, round, flushed pink, bounced in hypnotic waves, each slam sending ripples across the plush globes and slapping against his thighs. Her heels scraped the floorboards, toes curling inside the polished leather, the tie around her neck swinging between her jiggling tits.
“Fuck! Tight as hell!” Marshall growled, hands finally gripping her hips to feel the clutch of her cunt.
She’d already come three times now. Each climax ripped through her in shuddering pulses that milked his shaft like a fist. Her walls fluttered and spasmed, gushing fresh nectar that painted his balls and matted his pubes in sticky webs.
Peggy’s eyes rolled back in delirium, lashes fluttering, mouth slack and drooling as she chased the next high. Her mind was gone. Just the wet slap of her ass, the burn in her thighs, the fat cock splitting her open over and over.
Marshall drank in the sight. The way her cheeks clapped apart on every upstroke, revealing the stretch of her pink, snug rim around his fat girth, the way her tits bounced so hard they smacked her chin with soft, wet thuds.
Squelch! Plap! Squelch!
She was leaking endlessly now, thick strands of sticky juice stretching between them like molten sugar, snapping and reforming with every bounce. The cot groaned under them, springs screaming, the air thick with the scent of sex and the wet squelches of her pussy.
"Damn! Spy pussy is always the best! Gaaaah… But this won't do."
Marshall decided to take matters into his own hands.
He sat upright in one fluid motion, arms snaking under her knees, going up, and locking behind her neck. With a grunt, he stood straight. He lifted her clean off the bed, her curvy body folded like a pretzel, impaled and helpless. Full-nelson, Marshall remembered the name.
His cock never left her cunt; it throbbed deeper as gravity dragged her full weight down, the fat head kissing her cervix over and over.
Her ass and tits dangled low, swaying like ripe fruit. He clamped one hand around her throat, completing the full body lock, and her heels kicked uselessly above her head.
"Ungh-ungh-ungh!"
Peggy's tongue lolled out, her moans and groans combined into a strange sexual song. Marshall held her suspended, cock jammed to the hilt.
Marshall snapped his hips like a battering ram, testing the limits of her cunt with every savage plunge. He stretched her pink walls to their brink, bruised the tender ring of her entrance with the relentless slam, and fucked her straight past sanity into a babbling, drooling mess.
Still locked in that position, he strode forward, boots thudding across the floor, and kicked the balcony door clean off its hinges. Sunlight poured in, hot and golden, as he stepped onto the narrow balcony perched high above the temple. They were high enough up that the tiny figures below were ants, oblivious to the god and the broken spy.
The view stretched for miles. Rolling hills, distant smoke, a whole picture-perfect postcard beneath them. Marshall grinned into the sun’s glare, cock still buried to the base, and started walking the balcony’s length like he was strolling a parade ground.
"Gah… Might just… go and check out that… Hitler guy."
"Ngggh… Yes, yes, yes, yes…!" Peggy’s answer was a hiccupping chant between moans, held up like a doll on display, a very obscene doll.
Her hair was a mess, feet pointed at the sky, spine bent like a bow. Those magnificent swells were crushed between her own thighs, mashed into soft, jiggling pillows that bounced with every step he took. Her head was bent forward by his grip, forcing her to stare straight down at the sinful sight of his fat cock pistoning in and out of her ruined hole. Glossy with cream, veins pulsing, the thick shaft disappearing into her belly only to yank back out with a wet, sucking tug.
Juices rained down in sticky ropes, her fourth climax barreling in like a freight train. The balcony rail creaked as he leaned her against it, still fucking, sunlight glinting off the mess streaking her thighs.
"Mmmmh… Dammit, this won't do… Let's keep this up the whole night." Marshall declared, revealing his intention to fuck her more. It was still sunny out.
"Aaaaaah! I'm…" Peggy’s cry cracked into a scream as the orgasm exploded. Her cunt clamped down in violent spasms, gushing clear nectar that splashed his balls and spattered on the floor.
"Damn right! As I am!"
"N-ooooh!" She wailed, feeling the swell of his cockhead flare against her womb.
"Fuck, no worries! My tadpoles’ too strong to breed your pussy." Marshall roared.
He hoisted her higher, one brutal surge upward until her body was displayed to the sky like a war trophy, then slammed her down onto his full length, claiming her ruined pussy. The first jet erupted with volcanic force, thick godly ropes of mind-numbing cream blasting straight into her depths, flooding her so fast it bulged her lovehole.
He didn’t stop. Couldn’t.
He fucked her through it, using her sweat-slicked body like a cocksleeve, hips ramming, batter churning into froth around the seal of her stretched pussy lips.
Another gush, then another, each pulse thicker than the last. It spilled out in heavy streams down his thighs, pooling beneath them in a glistening puddle. The balcony reeked of sex and sunlight, but the First Man kept pumping his spy without a care. He had so much more to give to her.
"Huh… I'm thirsty." Marshall muttered and walked back into the room. But instead of putting her on the bed, he placed her against the table, feet on the floor, breast pushed plush on the tabletop. He slid back in her warm cum coated pussy to keep going while grabbing a jar and a glass of water from the table.
Peggy was half-awake at that point, relaxing on the table while feeling the wild stretch his cock left in its movement. Knowing he was going to keep at it the whole night, she wondered if her body would ever be the same again.
Creak! Creak! Creak!
It was a ritual that had only begun.
####
A few floors away,
"Ummmmmh! Goddamn! Inhuman blowjob is the fucking best!" Helvar roared as he finally conquered that edge. He gripped Medusa's insanely long red hair like reins and fucked her throat. "Flirting with you… was the best… decision ever!"
Hevlar fucked Medusa's throat like a pussy, raw and relentless. He twisted her crimson hair tighter around his fists, ramming his entire throbbing length down her gullet until his balls slapped against her chin. Each plunge hit the deepest, tightest point of her throat. The slick heat, the Inhuman depth, it was better than any human cunt. As the pressure coiled unbearably in his balls, his knees buckled, his frame teetering forward.
He fell over Medusa, as she knelt before him. His weight crashed down, pinning her beneath his bulk, but she didn't fight it. Her body yielded like a queen surrendering to her conqueror.
Medusa fell onto her back with a muffled gasp, but Hevlar followed without mercy, sprawling flat on her. His cock jammed impossibly deep into her throat as they landed, buried to the root in one savage, unintended thrust that made her neck bulge obscenely.
Perverse and insatiable, Hevlar didn't stop.
He ground his hips downward, fucking her face into the unyielding floor with short, vicious pumps. Her skull thumped on the floor as he used her mouth like a fleshlight pinned under him.
Gluk! Gluk!
Medusa gagged and coughed around his invading girth, but those coughs only tightened her throat further, rippling waves of pleasure milking him harder. Her hands clawed at his thighs, pulling him in deeper. Her nails dug into his flesh as tears streamed from her eyes; a queen reduced to a drooling, willing, cock-stuffed mess.
"Gaaaaaaaagh! Fuck! Best… day ever! No wonder… Dad loves women! I love women too!" he growled through gritted teeth.
Hevlar came like a goddamn volcano, unleashing a load of thick, hot batter straight down her convulsing throat. White lava erupted from his pulsing cock, flooding her mouth into a creamy puddle that overflowed with each pump, splashing back against his shaft and her lips in filthy, warm splatters.
Medusa swallowed it all. She gulped greedily, her throat working in powerful contractions that sucked him dry. And he kept fucking through his release, churning his own buttery icing into a messy froth around her lips.
Finally, as his cock softened, twitching flaccidly, Hevlar slid out of her flushed mouth. Strings of cum and saliva connected them for a moment before snapping wetly. He rolled sideways beside Medusa's naked, heaving body, his chest still thundering, and immediately latched onto one of her supple, heaving breasts like a man possessed.
He suckled hard, lips sealing around the stiff bud, tongue slithering greedily while his hands kneaded the soft, pale flesh. Squeezing, molding, worshiping those royal swells with sloppy hunger, leaving them glistening with his spit.
"Ummm…." Medusa moaned, her body arching into his touch without hesitation, fingers threading through his hair to cradle him closer.
Helvar had pursued her with the relentless fire, and somewhere amid the chase, she'd realized the void in her long life. Her royal husband, that fool, had dared threaten the First Man and paid with his life. Now, here she was, claimed by the First Man’s son.
Fucking the son of the man who killed your husband? It was strange, twisted, a taboo that should have repelled her.
But for people like them, having long lives, it felt normal. And gods, she loved Hevlar's appetite, that insatiable, youthful voracity that made her feel desired, devoured in ways her body ached for.
"Mmmh… You can try the other hole too, my love," Medusa purred.
"Hell! Fucking! Yeah!"
####
New York City, Goldie's Gym
"Guard up!"
Bam! Bam!
"Come on, Steve, you got this! Don't you wanna join the army with me?"
"I do."
Steven Grant Rogers, scrawny and short, tried to dodge Buckey's punches. It was training to join the army. He believed he could make it. He believed it was his duty to serve and stop evil. But for now, he needed to get the basics right.
"Too slow! Footwork, Steve."
"Ugh…" Steve tried his best, but he was soon out of breath and backed up a little to catch his breath. "I… Just a second."
"We can't stop, Steve. If we're to join the next ship to Europe, we gotta join fast."
Steve panted, nodding. "I know… Uh…"
He stepped out of the ring eventually and sat down on the nearby bench. He eyed the small tattoo he had on his forearm. It was the most commonly used, unofficial sigil of the First Man. It depicted a cross-armed man's silhouette.
"Come on, stop staring at that."
Steve looked up at his friend. "Why do you think he's not stopping all this?"
"Why should he? He's a god, not our nanny. Everyone knows Hitler's insane for taking the First Man's name, it’s blasphemy. But that doesn't make it the First Man's problem."
Steve sighed and nodded, his fist clenched. He didn't know what difference he'd make. Even if it was a little, he wanted to give it a try. It was the right thing to do.
"I still hope he does something."
####
Treblinka extermination camp, Poland,
The sky was sunny, yet it seemed dark and bleak. That was the difference between being inside those fences and outside.
"What will happen to us, Max?"
Scrawny, hopeless, Max stared into the distance at the line of fence. "I don't know, Magda."
The boy and girl sat there in silence. They knew what went on inside those buildings, spewing smoke at times. She knew what Max did to survive and to keep her alive.
"If… If we can get out of here…" Max muttered, careful not to be loud. "Let's hide somewhere together."
"Let's do tha…" Magda froze mid-sentence as her head tipped upward. "L-Look up there, Max! What's that?"
Max followed her finger. "A raft?"
_______________
[NOTE: Next chapter is going to have a bit of a serious vibe. It's WW2, and it's supposed to be far bloodier than ours. Plus the Aspirant's threat. ]
Poll Question - Are you guys cool with short smut scenes with ML being someone other than Marshall? Like Helvar in this chapter? [ONLY HELVAR]
Yeah, there will NEVER be any sharing. Any woman Marshall touches is forbidden for Helvar. Any Helvar touches is ignored by Marshall.
Comments
Razvan Peles
Tftc
Daniel
Plus Hela can slow her ageing process. Just had to say this cuz the actress that plays Peggy is hot hot hot🥵🥵
Daniel
Steve is in ice for 70 years so Peggy Carter fucking Marshall when he is believed dead is 1000% ok.
Lord Mehmeh
At least 2, he’s still marshal’s son
Kei Winston
no from now on, more hot female characters will appear. plus marshal is the main character not helvar. maybe make helvar find one true love and be different from his dad for character growth
Jerman Ruiz
Finally
MrPlotThickens
Oh yeah. His grow up moment is coming soon. Reality gonna hit him in the balls.
Lord Mehmeh
I want helwar to grow up , maybe have a mission or something to gravitate towards that is not a fake mini me of marshal
