MrPlotThickens
patreon
Marvel: Upgrading Death 19 - Democracy Wins, Baby Marshall & Celestial Scheme
🕑 Added 2025-11-05 19:51:21 +0000 UTCDoc - https://docs.google.com/document/d/1Yahqm8iD08Y3lrAU_-YJbuudUI8fIsVn_oJ7vVdLQ8s/edit?usp=sharing
________________
"Goths! Assemble!"
Marshall shouted as he hovered above the ancient, secret city of Attilan—the land of Inhumans. It had been found out that Helvar was captured by the Inhumans. Of course, Hela wasn't happy about that.
And since it was Selene who located Helvar, she was there. Since she was there, Morgan Le Fay was also there. Thanks to that, almost every woman living in his temple arrived to save Helvar. Hela, Selene, Morgan Le Fay, and Mystique. Heck, even Marty was there, standing on the primordial raft.
It was, in a true sense, an assembly of beautiful Goths. Marshall was rather proud of being there, holding Raven in his arms since she couldn't fly. He could make her fly, heck, he was standing on the raft, but holding her soft blue body was more fun.
"What was that about, Master?" Selene asked confusedly. "Goths?"
"Pretty ladies, that's what it fucking means," Marshall grinned, staring at the city below. "Any idea where the boy is?"
"Underground."
"Eh, waste of time. Let's rip whoever rules this shithole and force them to puke him up. The damage's done anyway. They can either kneel to me as their new guide or die right here and now. This ball or rock's already got enough overpowered fuckers, don't need more."
"I agree," Hela hissed, looking furious and gorgeous in her dark spiky armor with that fluttering cape.
"Let's go then." Marshall started flying down like a meteor.
The city of Attilan looked technologically advanced. Far more than what the rest of the world was.
"What's with all these ass-lickers and their fetish with gatekeeping tech? First, the self-loathing perpetual victim Wakandans, and now these assholes? Why not just share the fucking tech with the world and raise the entire planet?" Marshall wondered aloud, cursing.
"Because they're not as smart as you, Master," Selene proudly declared. "They're blind."
"Damn right."
BOOM!
Right then, Marshall and his goths landed in the middle of the futuristic city. They didn't hold back and made sure to land with a loud boom, cracking the concrete and the frames of tall buildings around them.
Surprisingly, unlike the size of the city, the population wasn't that high. Hell, it was barely more than a small village.
"Less than two thousand." Hela sensed it.
"That's it?" Marshall frowned. "If I kill them, it won't even be a genocide. Just a massacre."
"..."
It was a very fucked up thing to say. But to all the people there, it wasn't very surprising. They just stayed, aware that soon someone would react to their little invasion. If the Inhumans were anything special, they'd come with the intent to attack.
"No food joints? What kind of flavorless hellhole is this?" Marshall sneered, glaring at the spotless streets. "Too damn clean. Makes my skin itch. A few cracks, some grime, maybe a rat with ambition, that’s character, Marty. This place looks like it’s been bleached by God himself."
"Wraaaah~"
"Huh? Nah, I don’t mean trash in the streets, genius. I’m talkin’ the streets themselves lookin’ lived-in, cracks, stains, old-ass concrete, manhole covers that’ve seen hell and back. That kinda crap gives a place soul. But this place? Baby Jesus, it looks factory fresh. Like someone built the whole thing in their sleep yesterday."
Marty rubbed his tail on the street to find some dirt, but even the T-Rex looked amused at how his tail was left clean. "Rwah~"
"And here they come."
From the sky, a few figures appeared. However, while most of them were slow and non-threatening, one of them came in like a falling meteor. A tall, big, brute-like man. The man landed right in front of Marshall, glaring and snarling.
"I am Gorgon Petragon! I have crushed armies and Gods! I have devoted my entire life to honing the warrior's craft. I have sacrificed everything fighting for my people's future—"
Poof!
Not Marshall, it was Marty.
The big T-Rex just swung his massive lizard tail and struck the large man, surprisingly turning him into a mist of blood, the remaining pieces of his body thrown far away.
"What was that for?" Marshall asked.
"Gruff wraaa~"
"Hah! You thought he'd he tougher to kill? Well, you're my fucking boy. There ain't anybody better than you." Marshall proudly jumped onto Marty's head and watched the rest of the figures descend. "Alright, let’s see what kind of freakshow they’re sending next."
"Umm… Sir? C-Can you put me down?"
Marshall looked at Raven, still held in his arms in a bridal carry. "Dammit, I forgot about you. I don't mind, though."
Raven blushed a little, her cheeks burning hot. "I… Neither do I, but… We might have to fight."
"That's possible. Alright, you can stand." He put her down on Marty's head. There was plenty of space for them. The big boy had a very big head.
Around that time, the figures from the sky finally landed. There were five; the one in the middle was a woman with insanely long red hair.
"You, redhead, where's my son?"
The Inhumans behind the woman frowned at Marshall's tone and almost moved. But the woman stopped them with a wave of her hand.
"I am Medusalith Amaquelin, Queen of the Inhumans. Your son broke into our city, then into my home, and somehow thought it fitting to invite me on a date. He flirted with me, the Queen of Attilan—"
"He did?! Damn, gotta hand it to him, the bastard’s got taste. Ah..." Marshall froze as Hela’s stare drilled into his skull. He could feel it. "That’s... yeah, that’s bad. Real bad. Totally messed up. Don’t worry, I’ll kick that boy’s ass myself."
Medusa nodded from her place and gestured to someone nearby. "I have another matter to speak of, First Man. My husband, Blackagar Boltagon, went out seeking you. Have you seen him?"
Ah shit! I forgot about that one. Wait, what did I do to him?
"Him? Oh, he's dead."
"..."
"..."
"..."
The Inhumans stared at him dumbly. Even Raven and the rest of his team did the same. Heck, Marty's big eyes were trying to look up, making him appear more adorable than he already was.
"D-Dead? What… how?" Medusa asked.
"Well, of course, I killed him."
"..."
"..."
"..."
Marshall could have lied, and nobody would have had any reason to doubt it. He could have made up any story. But he didn't, for he simply couldn't. Making a story and a lie meant having to think deeply. That was something he didn't want to bother with.
Medusa's hair started to move just then, like flames. Her eyes narrowed. "The reason?"
"He threatened Dinosia. I told him to quit playing monarch and march your sorry people to Dinosia. He refused. And I refused his refusal. Look, you miserable sacks of shitheads live on land I own. I’m the First Man. I rule this planet. You can’t settle without my blessing, and I’ve decided you’ll all be shipped to Dinosia. Your boyfriend bragged he'll raze Dinosia itself, real cocky. If you lack the bite to back your bark, shut the fuck up."
"You will enslave us?" Medusa asked with an enraged look. "You will force my pe—"
"Pfft! Get off your filthy high horse! You call yourself a queen and tell me I'm enslaving. Bitch, Dinosia has no king. No ruler. No tyrant. It's got nerds who do nerdy things. Live happy, eat happy, make kids, or maybe not. What have you guys done? Big ass city for a village-sized population?
“I offered you guys a safety net. No more hiding. Live loudly in the open like Angels and Mutants in my land. Look at this blue cutie, she's a mutant, and she doesn't even hide it in Dinosia. Heck, even outside, nobody’s got the balls to touch a hair on her head. But your boyfriend preferred to keep his crown rather than to free his people. Who is the slaver now?"
"My people remain here because they believe in the royal family’s guidance!"
"Hahah! Said every inbred king ever. Alright, let's do this. Call all your folks, tell them what I'm offering. No more hiding. No more trembling about hiding your powers. Live out loud, giddy, gorge, and scour the world. Versus your damned paradise of skulking in shadow. Let’s see who votes to stay." Marshall crossed his arms
Somehow, Medusa controlled her anger. "Very well, let us do that."
"Go ahead."
The Inhumans certainly had some sort of advanced communication system. The Queen summoned everyone, and sure enough, everyone arrived within an hour. They were all humanoids, though not fully human. Some had a rocky body, some had big heads, some were actually hotties. Curious and confused, they all listened to their Queen retell what happened.
After she was done, Marshall started.
He told them the truth about why he killed Black Bolt. Reminded them that if someone had threatened to wipe them and their city out, their King would have done the same. Also, he reminded them who he was, how old he was, and that Dinosia was a true free world, where everyone was accepted.
Finally, he pitched them to vote for him. A true democracy where they get to decide to live with their Queen, under her rule, in hiding. Or come with him, free, loud, no king or queen above their heads.
It was human nature to reject authority. Although Inhumans were a different breed of humans, their nature was the same. Nobody liked high-headed fuckers sitting over their heads deciding their fate. Nobody liked kings and queens, no matter how benevolent they were. If given a choice, humans would choose freedom, even if living under a king was safer.
Of course, there still were many who'd choose to live under authority. They were dimwits, as per Marshall. Fools without a spine who needed mommy's tits to guide them when to stand and where to shit.
It was a pretty simple vote, done by raising hands.
"Those who wish to move to Dinosia?"
Hands were raised.
"Those who wish to stay in Attilan?"
Hands were raised, but fewer.
What Marshall was offering them was their long-held desire. To be free of the invisible shackles that forced them into secrecy.
Out of slightly over a thousand Inhumans, nearly three-quarters voted for Marshall. It was weird, as nobody raised their hand for Marshall initially. But once the first hand came up, the others followed like a wave. Before long, the result was clear.
"Why?!" Medusa shouted.
"Really? You lot live longer than moldy cheese and still didn’t learn jack? The French tossed their royals like spoiled meat, and you still went, ‘Ooh, shiny crown, let’s keep it!’ Genius move. Dictatorships and monarchies start like a party, end like food poisoning. Democracy’s better, you get to hate fresh idiots every few years. But one bloodline running the show forever? That’s not tradition, that’s a goddamn disease."
"But you! You have been ruling Dinosia for far longer!" Medusa pointed out.
Marshall howled with laughter. "Me? Ruling? Woman, I don't give a fuck what goes on in my land. I tossed out a handful of rules so they don’t stab each other too much, and that’s it. The rest? Their damn problem. I’ve got bigger breasts to play... I mean beasts to slay. All I do is shield Dinosia from the vultures and piss on the ground to mark it mine."
Medusa noticed more heads nodding than she was hoping. Was their rule truly that disliked?
"I'm leaving, your rotten, swollen pride pukes all over this mess. All who crave Dinosia, go home and grab your stuff. I'll give an hour. To those who scoffed then felt a twitch of doubt, you got the time to decide. And those who stay behind... I won't lift a hand, but I damn well won't be burying your carcasses when the hammer of something falls."
In moments, the Inhumans rushed away, looking more excited than they should.
Left behind, Medusa and her companions were shocked, focused, angered, and in doubt. With the Inhuman population reducing more than half, what was the point of their city? And if the Inhumans who left thrived, even more would leave Attilan.
If that was inevitable, then…
Medusa chose to swallow her pride. The man who murdered her husband, she knew, she couldn't defeat him. Many had tried and failed. The history of the world was less about the world and more about the First Man and his deeds, shaping everything.
Against such a man, she couldn't imagine a victory.
"I… too… will go," Medusa declared. "Not for my own sake, but for the safety of my people. The crown no longer matters to me, but if your word fails, I will be there to defend them."
"Sure, be my guest. Do whatever makes you happy." Marshall shrugged, not even looking.
The Inhumans couldn't give a shit about Black Bolt. Medusa had noticed that already. Forcing them would make them hate her more.
In the end, she agreed to move all Inhumans to Dinosia.
And just like that, Dinosia, the already super advanced society by global standards, gained another set of super intelligent nerds and superpowered beings.
Marshall couldn't help but rub his hands in anticipation. How would their babies turn out? Already, some Angels had given birth to humans. Babies came out with wings, sometimes no wings, but they all came out physically strong and mentally superior.
Hah! I feel like a mad scientist.
####
Moon, First Man Point, Base D1-Marty,
Amelia Earhart was the first human and woman to ever fly into space, to land on the moon, return home, and then go back for the second time. She was the first human and woman in the world to spend a week on the moon.
She had so many titles that started with First Human and First Woman that she no longer had a count. A few years had passed since she had that encounter with the First Man. Swear to god, she still remembered that day so vividly. Fucking in that cramped plan was hot.
Since then, they'd been regular sex partners, that was whenever they got time. She was too busy with her new career as an astronaut, flying back and forth between Earth and the Moon. She'd done it three dozen times already, having learned something new each time.
She honestly didn't know what the scientists back on Earth were planning, but she was all for it. They had already set up a habitat on the Moon, mostly self-sufficient. They had reverse-engineered that alien aircraft that the First Man had caught and used it to build all that.
She was certain that Dinosia was now at least five decades ahead of the rest of the world. Their anti-gravity technology was mind-blowing already. Their thruster technology was also insane. Their moon base could house thirty people and use the sunlight as a power source. As far as she knew, a few countries were trying to catch up, mainly Russia, Germany, and America. But they were at least a few decades away. That was for space flight. For anti-gravity and repulsors? She really didn't know. Maybe a century?
This time, she had a very special mission. It was something of a tour, and she was the guide.
"How far humanity has come."
"Earth looks so… beautiful."
Albert Einstein, Nikola Tesla, and many more scientists stood on the moon in their space suits. They looked at the distant Earth and just froze. Their minds were empty, yet their hearts were not.
"All the wars, all the hunger, all the misery, all of it on that small rock," Albert Einstein commented.
"No borders from up here," Tesla added.
"Is this…" Enrico Fermi breathed deeply inside the helmet. "Is that how the First Man sees the world? Just a small rock, no borders, too insignificant for him?"
"Well, I for one am happy to have the First Man around. Knowing there are entire galactic empires out there in space… It's scary when you see nations at war on Earth." Amelia joined the conversation. "First Man is an invisible safety net."
All of them nodded.
####
White House, USA, 1940.
Arthur D. Morgan had done it. He had fucking done the impossible. He had won the election, defeating the two-term President, Franklin D. Roosevelt. It was an impossible task as FDR was extremely popular. And since Germany had started their madness, FDR's victory was certain.
Yet, Arthur didn't accept defeat. Just two months before the elections, he recalibrated his election campaign and strategy. He stopped talking about policies. He stopped talking about the future. He took inspiration from the enemy, the German leader.
"First Man's America!"
That was the new presidential motto he used. The plan was simple. Since the First Man was so loved in America, the easiest way to win the public was to go crazy about the First Man. He, a nobody, a retired fucking soldier from Illinois. He had no political experience. He'd never held office.
But somehow, all the things he shouted resonated with the people. All the crying about the First Man, and how the First Man must be disappointed in FDR, did something. He knew that FDR couldn't scream about the First Man since Congress hated the First Man, and FDR would anger many.
But he had no problems. He had no backers to begin with. He'd fucking sold all his farms and possessions to run for President.
When the election results came in, Arthur D. Morgan fell to his knees, tired, confused, and excited. How powerful was the First Man that by just using his name, he'd won the election? But he was no sissy; he manned up, trimmed his beard, and considered himself to be quite handsome as a man.
Soon enough, he took the office officially.
Sure, he'd received a nomination from the Republican Party since they had nobody good to stand against FDR, but that didn't mean he had the political support. Congress fucking hated him. He had no allies. He was the people's president, not the Congress's.
Thud!
First day in his office, he fell into his executive chair, tired, and threw away his hat angrily. "The fuck are we supposed to do now? I ain't got a clue who to bring to the cabinet. I ain't no politician. What do you say, old man?"
Arthur did have one man he could trust, however. His former commanding officer from the Army. He was just one rank below the old man during those days, and he'd formed something of a brotherly relationship with him. He could trust the old man with his life. And the old man was the one who advised him on how to woo the American public with the First Man. Now, the old man was the Secretary of War.
"Well, I'd say keep your mind on the war. The economy will take care of itself as long as we keep the Allies supplied. Folks like a winner, and as long as we keep winning, they'll stay behind us. Still, I hope you consider signing on to the Allied intelligence agency I’m putting together."
“Dammit, just do it, old man. I’m too thick for that. SSR was it. I’ll keep this house of cards from folding. While I’m holdin’ it together, you ride out to Dinosia and see if they’ll lend a hand. Find the First Man, guilt him into it if you gotta, tell him Hitler idolizes him or whatever’ll jab him into helpin’.”
The old man sighed. "You don’t get it. The First Man isn’t like us. I’ve spent decades trying to figure him out. He could tear down Berlin for the Allies if he felt like it, or just as easily turn around and do the same to London."
"Look, I’m throwin’ myself on the line here, ain’t no cards left in my hand, Chester. You’re the one who thinks straight, you always were. Send someone calm, someone who won’t lose their head, and have ’em sit with him. Make sure they tell him straight up about Hitler and his nonsense ’bout idolizing the First Man."
Chester Phillips sighed and nodded.
"I personally can't go since I'm needed here, and to establish the SSR. But I have recruited a remarkable British agent, Margaret Elizabeth Carter. I'll send her to speak with the First Man. Trust me, Arthur, if she can't get to him, nobody can."
"Alright, I'll trust you with that. Now, who should we have as our Secretary of the Navy…"
Their discussion returned to managing the mess Arthur had found himself in. A nobody who became the President just because he said the right words.
No agenda. No policies.
Just chanting First Man.
####
Dinosia, Temple of the First Man,
"Ummmh…"
Pop!
Marshall pulled his mouth away from Ajak's succulent, tight nipple with a pop. "How the fuck am I supposed to beat a bastard even your boss can't beat? Celestial Destructor, his name's got destruction in it."
Absolute perversion it was in Marshall's room. He was naked, as was gorgeous Ajak with her full, curvy body and heavenly large tits. They weren't fucking, or even close. Ajak sat plush on a very soft couch, and Marshall lay flat beside her, his head on her naked lap. His hands groped her breasts, suckled, while her one fist stroked his throbbing cock and the other his hair.
"I have spoken with them. Even they have no solution for you, Marshall—Ummmh~" Ajak moaned, babying the First Man on her lap, leaning down so her breasts were fully smushed on his face. He seemed to love it as his cock throbbed in her fist.
Her thumb swirled lazy, wicked circles over his swollen knob, pressing just hard enough to coax a fat bead of precum from that tiny slit. She smeared it down the ridge, slicking him until his cock gleamed in her fist. Between her own thighs, a furnace roared. Her pussy clenched around nothing, dripping honey that soaked the crease, the scent of her arousal thick enough to taste.
"Mmm…" Marshall mumbled into the plush heaven of her tit, mouth latched like a starving baby. His hands kneaded those overflowing mounds. So impossibly soft, so heavy, they slapped gently against his cheeks when she shifted.
"I guess… I'll just…" He popped off one nipple with a wet smack, tongue flicking the stiff peak before diving back in. "Just beat him the old-fashioned way."
Another greedy suck, teeth grazing, hips jerking into her stroking fist like he was already fucking her hand.
"I'm sure you can… Oh!" The word cracked into a gasp as his teeth caught her nipple. A spark that shot straight to her clit.
She felt every slide of his tongue, every hot pull of suction blooming through the swollen bud. Her breasts throbbed, heavy and tender, aching in the best way. She couldn’t see his face anymore, just the crown of his head buried under the avalanche of her tits. She was feeding him, and it made her cunt pulse hard.
Her gaze slid down to where his cock speared the air, flushed and angry. She licked her lower lip, slow and hungry. She’d seen cocks before, but none like this. None that made her mouth water and her pussy clench with greedy need. The First Man, the very source of all life on this spinning rock. Oh, how lovely it was to feel it inside. But that night, she wanted to taste it.
"Oh, forgive me, Marshall… I must taste you."
"Huh?"
She moved like slithering sin, hips twisting, then sliding off the couch.
Before he could blink, she swung a fluffy thigh over his head and dropped. Her dripping cunt slamming down onto his mouth, thighs clamping his skull with a power that could crush a thousand watermelons. The heat of her pussy smothered him, slick folds spreading over his lips, hands bracing on his powerful thighs, her weight pinning him flat.
"Oooooh! Your breath, Marshall!"
The first hot exhale against her clit ripped a cry from her throat, hips grinding instinctively, smearing her juices across his nose and chin.
Marshall growled into her, arms locking around her ass like iron bands. His tongue speared up, brutal and starving, lapping her from clit to entrance in one long, filthy swipe. He drank her in, tongue-fucking her love hole, slurping loud enough to echo off the walls.
"Hell—mhh…" Marshall roared, muffled. "Crush my head! Fuck, hot! Put your weight into it!"
Ajak’s worry melted into feral delight. She planted her knees wide, rolled her hips, and let every lush pound of her mature body sink down. Her ass cheeks swallowed his face, pussy grinding a messy, squelching seal over his mouth.
She rode his tongue like a mechanical bull, thighs trembling, sensitive nub throbbing against his lower lip while his tongue speared deeper, hotter, wetter. The lewd symphony of her smothering the First Man beneath her dripping cunt was the only thing echoing in her ears.
Slurp! Squelch!
All Ajak could feel was fire, his tongue spearing into her, carving wet heat through her core while his rough hands clawed her ass apart. The stretch of her asscheeks burned, cool air kissing her exposed hole. And then, his thumb circled that tight ring, slow, filthy, sending sparks up her spine that made her cunt clench harder around his tongue.
"Ah!"
She felt that thumb pressed just the puckered rim, a hot, slick tease that made her hips jerk forward. And she loved every second of it.
Plap! Plap! Plap!
Her ass bounced on his face now. Short, greedy drops that slammed her pussy down onto his mouth. She also rocked back and forth, chasing the dual blaze of tongue and thumb, her thighs trembling uncontrollably.
"Fuck yeah! Harder, Ajak! Mmmmh… Delicious!" Marshall’s voice vibrated straight into her clit, muffled and feral.
Marshall, the dog that he was, kept eating her like she was a feast. His face was a glazed wreck, lips, chin, cheeks slick with her juices.
His cock throbbed untouched until Ajak’s mouth descended, swallowing him in one scalding slide. Nose mashed to his pubes, throat fluttering. She fucked her own face on him, moaning around the thick shaft that stretched her lips thin. She was taking him balls deep each time, down to his pubes.
Marshall really didn't mind what he was doing. He cherished all women equally, and after a hundred million years of emptiness, he’d earned the right to drown in it. Pussy-eating was just another part, and fuck, if the woman were as hot and curvy and thick-thighed like Ajak, he'd be insane not to have her sit on his face.
Hell, he wondered why he hadn't done it yet. Or had he done it before? He couldn't remember. That was the benefit of his shitty brain; some experiences could be as good as the first time trying it.
Plap! Plap!
The wet smacks of her ass on his cheeks filled the room.
“Oohh~ Oh!” Ajak’s moans climbed, now toe-curling, desperate. She teetered on the edge, mortified at the flood building behind her clit, ashamed of how badly she would drown him in it.
"Mmmmh—do—oh it!" His command buzzed through her folds.
Then his tongue shifted, swelling, thickening, coiling into a ridged talon that punched into her like a second cock. It filled her, stretched her, pistoned deep while his thumb kept teasing her ass. He felt her contractions around his boneless flesh, her spasms, her trembling thighs, and fuck, it was scorching hot.
She came like a geyser.
Her pussy clamped down on the writhing talon that was his tongue, thighs crushing his head, gushing nectar that poured over his chin, soaked his neck, and dripped onto the couch. Every pulse felt like lightning in her veins, her clit throbbing against his lips, her anal hole clenching around his thumb. She loved it, loved the lewd decadence of squirting on the face of the first man.
Marshall reveled in the downpour. He fucked her through it, talon-tongue slamming deep, milking every contraction while her throat convulsed around his cock.
Ajak’s body still quaked, but her mouth worked harder on his cock. Lips sucking faster, tongue swirling the vein beneath. She wanted him to feel the same bliss, wanted to choke on his release while her pussy still fluttered.
Her lips slurped messily, drool and precum stringing from chin to balls, every bob of her head a thank-you for the most shameless, perfect orgasm of her life.
Her fist pumped him in relentless strokes, hair plastered to her cheeks, eyes streaming tears of effort while her throat ached raw around his girth. She hollowed her cheeks hard and felt the first volcanic pulse surge up his length.
"Unmmmmmm~!"
The moan vibrated through Ajak’s nose as hot, thick ropes blasted straight into her gullet.
Marshall had erupted, surge after endless surge, flooding her mouth until her cheeks ballooned. Creamy excess bubbling at the corners of her stretched lips.
She choked, gagging on the sheer volume, but swallowed hard around the cock buried to her tonsils, throat flexing in greedy gulps. Her fist never stopped, milking his shaft while white rivulets were spilling down her chin. She drowned in him and drank anyway, eyes rolling back in filthy bliss.
When the torrent finally calmed, she eased off with a wet gasp, lips glossy and swollen. Her tongue lapped lazily along the twitching shaft, chasing stray streaks of batter and spit, savoring the salty-sweet mess.
Ajak turned and crawled up his body, thighs trembling, and flopped chest-to-chest. Her soaked slit trapped his spent length under her slick folds. Face inches from his, she started licking. Slow swipes across his chin, cheeks, and nose, cleaning her own juice from his face like a cat with cream.
"Ummmh…" Her tongue traced the corner of his mouth. "You are the most powerful being in the world. You… will… win… I know."
Pa!
His palm cracked across her ass, the sharp sting making her yelp and arch.
He shifted under her lush body, cock already thickening again, nudging between her petals until the fat crown slipped in.
"Damn right!"
Ajak’s smile was pure sin. "Mmmh… You can enter the other one if you wish."
"Fuck!" Marshall didn't need to be told a second time. "Aspirant or whatever… fuck, I'll fight anything to keep doing this… I fucking love women!"
And so, that night, all he did was fuck Ajak's ass. He gushed rivers inside her, and Ajak spilled squirt after squirt.
Eyes half-lidded, tired. Breathing ragged. Sheets sweaty.
It was one hell of a night, as usual with Marshall.
"One more!"
Marshall, after n-th climax, made her prone and rammed in again in that impossible tightness. He howled like a wolf into her ears.
And oh, how much she loved that.
####
Unknown Place, Universe,
“The Aspirant, the Celestial Destructor, approaches with terrible speed,” Eson the Searcher intoned, his voice folding through silence.
"Knowledgeable of the anomaly they have become," added Nezzar.
Arishem the Judge turned a vast cosmic limb and created a projection of Earth, revealing in it two figures, Marshall and Ajak, caught in an uncommon posture and a strange ritual, both figures screaming. Such intimacies barely registered with the Celestials. They had fashioned life, tuned its gears, and watched its engines run. To them, the scene was a pattern, nothing more than a gear in a machine calibrated to their will, working as intended.
"The First Man came from nowhere, without the sign of Celestial, foreign. He has no origin, no end. He is a rupture, a universe folded in a single mortal skin. Let the Aspirant come. Let this trial test the First Man’s boundary.”
“And if he prevails?” Jemiah asked.
Arishem zoomed the view until Marshall’s face filled the projection, seated, strained, Ajak low and reverent on all fours. The First Man’s face expanded until it filled the entire projection. “If he absorbs the Aspirant’s power, he shall rise to parity with us. We would gain another in the Council, a human crowned by Celestial force.”
"He's too unstable," warned Hargen.
Arishem’s eye flared with an ancient, sovereign light.
"He shall no longer be, should he triumph over the Aspirant."
Comments
Razvan Peles
Tftc
Daniel
Yes yes yes epic battle and sane Marshall now that is crazy😉😉😉
Emil v03
Will he meet Gaia again anytime soon? I hope Marshall is still as unhinged with a healed mind as he is with a broken one
Ben
How bad is a multi million year hangover anyways?
Corvus
Sane Marshall approaching?😱
André Lange
Damm celestial fighting is going to be epic!
