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Marvel: Upgrading Death 6 - The Dogs, The Peeper & The Cats
🕑 Added 2025-06-21 19:59:22 +0000 UTCHela was furious, dishonored, and completely broken. She despised Odin and his tricks. Her powers were sealed, leaving her with mere superhuman strength, and it wasn't enough to deal with the man holding her captive.
She was forced to work on that massive library. It was infuriating work. As time went by, she realized her real enemy was boredom. But then, she noticed something. There was no need to be bored.
Not when she had the universe's finest entertainment right in front of her. Marshall was a man like no other. Every word that would come out of his mouth was unexpected, outrageous, and senseless. Every action he took was equally nonsensical. And then there was the large beast, although she liked that one.
Right in front of her eyes, the man and his beast verbally disputed, berated each other for five days and six nights, quarreling because they couldn't decide if a rock they found was round or elliptical.
In the end, it turned out that Marty didn't even know what elliptical meant.
It was all so absurd and yet entertaining. She tried to make sense of Marshall's thought process, and she found no valid reasoning behind them. The man did everything on impulse. There was barely any thought behind anything.
Clap!
"That's it! Pack your bags!" Marshall roared one day.
Hela tiredly eyed the man. Odin told her to learn from him, but she didn't know what to learn. "For what reason?"
"World tour’s on. I think it’s... what, 160 CE-ish? It could be earlier, could be later. Doesn’t matter; the big empires and kingdoms are out in force. Marty and I—we’re gonna swing by, sample their wine, see how it stacks up to Asgard’s mead."
"Finally." Hela rolled her eyes. "Something interesting for once."
"Indeed, my seven-foot-tall goth goddess student," Marshall said and looked at Marty. "We'll fly on my raft."
"..."
She had no recollection of what that string of words even meant. She just nodded, accepted as normal, and followed the man.
####
Asgard,
"Are you certain this was the right decision?"
"Frigga, Hela’s heart had strayed—blinded by might, consumed by her own fire. She needed to see with new eyes. Marshall treads a similar path, yet where she demanded the world kneel, he does not. Though his strength nears my own and his mind teeters on madness, he walks as a god ought—merciful, yet formidable."
Frigga eyed her husband with suspicion. "It has nothing to do with the fact that Thor is about to be born?"
Odin looked upon his new wife with warmth. "Nothing escapes your gaze, does it? Hela… aye, she is my pride. But her path does not end upon Asgard’s throne. With Marshall, her fire will find purpose. Our son shall rise here, as he must."
Frigga smiled and held her husband's hand as she lay right beside him on the bed. "You didn't discard her. You freed her from that prison. I'm sure she'll understand you one day."
“Ha! That is, if her mind holds fast. Marshall is no simple storm to weather.”
####
"Marty! Where the fuck are you?!"
Marshall roared into the night sky, standing on top of the Palatine Hill imperial palace in Rome. He was drunk, as expected, and was also being hunted down by the Roman Praetorian Guard. Expected, since he emptied half the taverns of their most expensive wine stock and paid nothing for it.
That wasn’t all; he also shamed the taverns and berated the wine for being so inferior. Even Hela berated it, comparing it to the filthiest drinks of Asgard, which were still better than the finest that Rome had to offer.
And sure enough, Marty also drank some. And as expected, got drunk and went on a rampage, howling at the moon like a wolf, trying to chase it to eat the damn thing in the sky. At first, Marshall just laughed and kept drinking. But later, he realized his boy was lost. The ruckus wasn't audible anymore.
"MARTYYYY! BRING YOUR FAT ASS HERE!" He roared so loudly that his voice thundered throughout ancient Rome, and nearby walls cracked. His furred cape fluttered on his shoulders, his eyes half open only, drunk out of his mind.
Burp!
"Martyyyyyy!"
Marshall ignored Hela, standing behind him with her arms crossed, looking embarrassed by his madness.
"Fuck! I forgot, I got the sniffing talent from Marty's ancestor!" He muttered, remembering that the first dinosaur that had eaten him was also an apex predator. "Alright, I’ll sniff the boy out! Gothess! Come on! Move those long legs."
Hela rolled her eyes at yet another name given to her. Yet, she didn't perceive any hint of dishonor from it. Marshall seemed to really use those names as if they were natural.
Sniff! Sniff!
Being a man with an already fucked brain, being drunk was like an added layer of fucked up.
Bam!
Marshall leapt off the massive building and landed on the street. Right away, he got on all fours, like a crawling beast, using hands and his feet, no knees.
Sniff! Sniff!
"Fuck! Fucking fuck these nasty, dirty Romans! Entire city smells of shit… ugh!" Marshall almost gagged, but then... "Got you! I'm coming, Marty!"
Woosh!
Albeit on all fours, Marshall was faster than any creature on the planet. He sniffed and roamed the streets of Rome, and kept moving, from one part of the city to another, and finally, he arrived in front of the Temple of Venus and Roma, the largest temple in Rome at that time. It was actually massive, in height and also in its spread.
"I can smell that big lizard! I know it! He's in there!" Marshall glared at the temple. "Hold on… there’s more… dog scent… feral—two. One’s pacing, the other’s bleeding pride. A bitch and a dog… How dare they kidnap Marty!"
"A dog and a bitch brought down a beast that towers over buildings?" Hela remarked from behind, arms folded, tone dry and unimpressed.
"No! They're not normal. There's… something off—yes! It's like—ugh, damn it. Firehair! Fuck, I miss her bones, my first love. That scent... yeah, that wrongness—same damn flavor. These two? They're dripping in it. Mutants!" Marshall was certain now and stood up again like a man. "Yeah. Has to be.”
Marshall cracked his knuckles and walked into the temple, his face changed, no longer showing the madness and lack of seriousness. No longer showing signs of being drunk. No longer appearing mindless.
"Hela, Marty's injured. Heal him."
Hela froze in her steps behind him. She couldn't remember the last time he took her name directly. "Why should I?"
But Marshall glared back at her just once, and she instinctively nodded. There was something in the air, different, threatening. Hela felt it in her core, a simple instinct she'd honed through countless battles. The bloodlust and the threat to her life, she knew what it felt like.
She felt something similar from Marshall, but much more potent. It was as if a lost man had found a purpose again.
Boom!
Marshall kicked the massive doors of the temple open, flattening them onto the ground. He barged into the inner sanctum of the temple and looked left and right, his nose moving, eyes cold.
Soon, instead of looking around, Marshall looked down at the flooring, made of beautiful marble.
Thud!
Thud!
He tapped on it a few times and then sneered. "A dog and a bitch hiding like rats. Hela, float in the air."
Then, Marshall knelt down on one knee and put a flat hand on the marble floor. He was right in the middle of the massive hall, and it was dark, but the strategic windows in the temple let in ample moonlight.
Shhhh~
He didn't punch, he didn't push, as if a wave rose through his muscles, his palm vibrated on the marble floor.
Crack!
The marble began to crack, then shatter apart.
BOOM!
In the blink of an eye, the entire flooring cracked apart into massive, thick slabs. It was like a world-ending earthquake, shaking the entire building. And as expected, there was a massive cavity underneath the floor as all the large chunks of floor started to fall into it.
But Marshall didn’t allow it all to fall, worried that Marty would be underneath. In a first-ever show of his absolute control over the abilities he inherited from his first love, he used Firehair's telekinesis and froze all the slabs of floor in the air.
He allowed his own body to fall through the gaps.
"I can smell you fuckers!" Marshall boomed and saw the approaching floor underneath. It looked like a gigantic hall with no furniture but a single, gigantic throne-like chair made of stone.
Midair, he stopped his free fall and started to float. He assessed the surroundings; it was dim, but sure enough, he saw Marty in one corner of the hall, lying sideways with massive, long triple claw gashes on his body, from his spine to his lower belly. Blood oozed from them, but he was still breathing, barely.
"Hela! Heal him!" Marshall ordered and focused on the two figures at the center of the hall. One was a male, a humanoid, but not human, sitting on the throne. He looked feral, with white hair and beard. The body was large, seven feet tall, and well built.
In comparison, the female, the bitch, looked athletic. A foot shorter than the man, red hair as long as her knees, sprawled behind her. She held a sword in one hand, her body draped in a barely-there leather suit that revealed her long legs entirely. Red lipstick and some strange dark marking covered both her eyes and half of her upper face, ruining whatever beauty she had.
Thud!
Marshall landed on the floor at last. It looked like a complete replica of the floor above, the marble, and the markings on it. Clearly, the entire temple was built keeping the underground chamber in mind.
"Marty, you good?" Marshall looked at the wounded T-Rex.
Hela was already beside the beast, caressing her hand on the wounds. Being the Goddess of Life and Death, she had the power to heal as well. Though she couldn't kill anymore, thanks to Odin's restrictions.
"Rufff~" Marty blew air through his nostrils.
"Atta boy!" Marshall chuckled at Marty's response and looked back at the two likely attackers. "Usually, I bother to ask the name of the creatures I kill. But you two—Dog and bitch is enough."
"Still your rage, First Man," said the feral man from his throne, legs still crossed. "Your pet tried to invade the temple. The reaction was a mere territorial dispute. Instinct met instinct. I let it live—for you—Rome is my—"
Marshall started walking towards the throne.
"I am Romulus—"
"Shhhh! No—don’t lie, you’re a dog," Marshall interrupted and floated in the air, picking up speed as he neared the throne. "First off, Marty’s not some damn pet—he’s a friend. Only one I’ve had in, what, eighty million years. And he’s not an 'it'—he’s a he, alright? Keep up."
The female standing beside the throne shifted, looking nervous. She put a hand on the man’s shoulder.
"Oh? Dog and bitch look scared now." Marshall sneered and, at last, hovered just an arm's length distance from the throne. "You clearly know me. And you still did it."
"Rome belongs to me, First Man. Yo—"
Smack!
Marshall slapped, a cosmic slap filled with cosmic flames and Odin's strength. It was so fast that the sound barrier broke, boomed, and connected square in Romulus' face.
POOF!
Romulus' entire face was splattered like a watermelon. The rest of his body was left sitting on the throne, and not even a flinch was registered.
"Rome? You fucking dog-shit! This planet is mine! You live because I allowed your existence to evolve!"
"ROMULUS!" The female cried in horror. "He can't regenerate that!"
"Oh? He has regeneration?" Marshall looked at the decapitated thing with surprise. "Then let me end all your hopes."
A single burst of cosmic flame covered Romulus and spread all over its body. In seconds, the entire body turned into ash, and then even that disappeared. The ancient, prehistoric creature just died for nothing.
"And you, bitch." Marshall eyed the female then. "The claws, it was you, wasn't it? You hurt Marty."
"No!" She fell to her knees and started begging. "No, no… Don't kill me. I really didn't know who he was. I thought it was an attack by Selene! She's been trying to sacrifice the entire population of Rome for her magic. I thought she sent the beast. Please, I'll do anything! Yes… You like women, I read about you. I'll be your woman! I'll do anything!"
"Ugh…" Marshall sneered, holding a gag. "Fuck! I'm not into bestiality, bitch. Less so with a bitch with rabies like you. And there's only one solution to a bitch with rabies—Death."
Marshall used telekinesis and forced her body to move. He maneuvered her like a doll, threw her onto her knees on the marble floor, and then.
Bam!
He made her kowtow towards Marty, but it was so deep that she bashed her entire face on the marble.
Bam!
Marshall slammed her face harder with telekinesis, cracking the floor.
Bam!
The floor became red, and a small crater formed where her blood pooled.
Bam!
Crunch!
Her nose broke.
Bam!
Her entire lip fell off, cut, the bone showing. She groaned and cried in pain, but her body was frozen in Marshall's control.
Bam!
Her entire nose was smashed into a fine paste.
Bam!
Her entire facial bone broke apart.
Bam!
She went blind as the bone shards popped her eyeballs.
Bam!
She took her last few breaths.
Bam!
Her brain stopped all its activity. She died.
Marshall left her body as it was, kneeling, face smashed into the filthy, blood and flesh-soaked crater in the marble. He looked at Hela, still healing Marty.
"How long will it take?" He asked.
"Moments. The… bitch had filthy nails."
"Oh?" Marshall scowled and looked back at the dead bitch, not so dead now as her regeneration revived her. And that regeneration was really fast. He saw in real time as her flesh from the floor moved and rejoined her face. Her bones regrew, and her face healed itself to its previous place.
"This just means I've got something to kill time and… punish the rabid bitch."
Bam!
Marshall once again started to smash her face into the ground. He didn't know her name, nor did he care. She dared hurt Marty; that was all that mattered. Humans, mutants, gods, they meant nothing to him. Anyone who dared to touch what he cherished deserved to die.
He had no qualms. He had no desires in particular. Nor did Marshall have any self-inflicted rules that stopped him from doing something.
"Please… forgive me—"
Bam!
For the third time, Marshall allowed the bitch to be revived before he started bashing her face.
From a distance, Hela watched Marshall in awe. She used to think he was a waste of a man, never using his godly powers. She used to loathe him, seeing him as a pathetic weakling. But it turned out he was simply uncaring of the rest of the mortal world. He was a creature living far above the rest.
This time, Marshall revealed his cruelty because he was dragged down by the mortals. If Romulus had done nothing, and if Marty wasn't hurt, Marshall wouldn't have given a damn who ruled Rome. But since Romulus made a choice to invite his own doom, Marshall held nothing back.
Bam!
Bam!
Marshall kept killing the bitch again and again while waiting for Marty to heal.
"Hm?"
But right then, he sensed another presence. This one felt special, and so easily noticeable. The magic sense he'd received by dying in Hela's hands made him aware.
"Come out!"
Marshall roared towards a dark doorway in the distance.
"You want me chasing you?"
At his last warning, a figure finally appeared from the darkness. It was a woman, dark hair, wearing a dark full-bodied leather suit, tight around her entire body, full hips and long legs, but open from above her large bust, revealing her pale skin and cleavage. Her arms were covered in similar black leather sleeves, connected with nothing. Then there was black lipstick and faint eye makeup.
And then there was the cape, its outer side dark and inner side red.
"I had nothing to do with it!" The black-clothed woman raised her arms to the sides. "I merely followed you here. I didn't know you were the First Man."
"And why should I fucking believe you? For all I know, you're with this bitch." Marshall sneered back and put his foot on the bitch's head this time, smashing it into the flooring.
"No! I'm Selene! Romulus and his sister are my enemies as well!"
"Ah! The one the bitch said is trying to sacrifice all of Rome?" Marshall eyed the woman more threateningly. "I guess I will kill you anyway. Or not. Rome’s wine is piss, but the bread slaps. And those baths? Oooh, they know what water is."
Selene's eyes shook in panic. She looked beyond Marshall and noticed the inhumanly tall woman dressed in black just like her. But Selene felt the superior magic from that woman. As for Marshall, she didn't want to know more about him. Following him was a mistake already.
"I-I won't! I won't sacrifice Rome. I'll leave this place—"
"No can do," Marshall said and for good, set the bitch's body on fire with cosmic flames, ending her. Then he started walking towards Selene, though it was hard not to look at her impossibly voluptuous breasts barely contained in her leather bodysuit.
"I… I'll become your follower." Selene offered, having seen his gaze savoring her body from head to toe. She'd felt that plenty of times, but never with the intensity Marshall did.
She was ancient, thousands of years old, yet she felt overwhelmed by this man's presence. She knew he was even more primordial than Romulus, but how much, she didn't know.
"Hah! Follower? I don't need that." Marshall laughed at her face and stood a mere half an arm's length away from her. With no shame, he looked down at that insane, tight cleavage. The woman was made for lust, as if. Her figure was more than just an hourglass. And her face, while pale and not that unique, was beautiful.
"Let's play a game."
"G-Game?" Selene asked, trying to think of a way out. She had countless powers and abilities, but she just couldn't think of one to use. She felt a strange, inherent inferiority to the man. As if it were biological. No, it had nothing to do with her gender. No, it felt genetic somehow. As if a little calf before its apex predator.
"Go get me a hundred kilos of vibranium. One year. You do it, maybe I’ll care enough to decide what’s next. Fail… and I’ll find you. I'll hunt you down. And make you my bitch—not the fun kind, but…" He jerked a thumb over his shoulder, to where he'd burned bitch's body. "That kind. Crispy."
Selene's pupils blew out, and she found herself nodding strongly. She didn't know why she was doing that. Not even trying to kill the man first.
"I-I'll find it. Where do I bring it?"
"Tallest mountain in Egypt."
With that, Selene turned around and ran away like her life depended on it, which it actually did.
"You let her go, huh," Hela commented from behind.
Marshall shrugged and turned back to Marty. "Look, I’m a sucker for the pretty ones, alright? Can’t fight it, especially the ones with nice racks. And hey, she wasn't lying. She did follow us."
Hela scoffed in disgust and crossed her arms.
Marshall couldn't give a damn and just went ahead and hugged Marty's big dinosaur head. And then, he knocked on his head.
"God damn, you fat lizard! Why'd you rage around the city? No more wine for you from now on."
"Grrrruf!"
"Really? Who just got their ass kicked now? If I hadn’t wandered in, you’d be a smear. That’s it, travel ban. We're done. We're hauling back. I’ll drill some self-defense into you. Hela, conjure a fireball or a sandwich, I don’t care—educate this twig."
"And why would I do that?" Hela asked back.
Marshall eyed her with a smirk. "Damn, I didn't know you loved working in the library that much."
"..."
"I shall teach him."
Chuckling, Marshall hovered his and Marty's bodies into the air and brought them out of that massive pit inside the temple. He finally let the broken slabs fall down after that.
From the surface, he walked out of the temple nonchalantly.
Thud! Thud!
"Ready the archers!"
Marshall paused, seeing so many Roman Praetorian Guards standing below the flight of stars, all holding long spears, and some archers present too. They had surrounded the entire exit of the temple.
"WRAAAAAAA!" Marty let out a fat roar at the crowd.
"Bahaha! Stop scaring them, you dumbass!" Marshall laughed when the Roman guards flinched and stepped back together.
But it was indeed an annoying thing to deal with. Still, not wanting to kill the people just because they didn't understand who he was, he chose to fly instead of walking. Using telekinesis, he hovered himself and Marty, and Hela used her own powers to follow.
"WAIT! Stand down! Wait… First Man! You're the First Man, aren't you?!"
Marshall looked down into the crowd of Romans and noticed one single man splitting through. The man looked regal in his purple toga embroidered with gold, and the inner tunic had gold embroidery as well. The Roman soldiers reverently parted to let the man through.
Interested, Marshall went down to meet the man. It was getting rarer and rarer for people to recognize him recently, so he was interested.
"You are?" Marshall asked as he landed on the ground with Marty on his side, looming over everyone. But the supposed beast was friendly, waving his little T-Rex arms at people.
Bearded, looking solemn, the man bowed his head first. "I am Marcus Aurelius Antoninus."
"Hmm… Doesn't ring a bell," Marshall said.
"I'm the Emperor, respected First Man."
"Congratulations."
"..."
A little awkward by how dismissive Marshall was, the Emperor spoke again. "I recognized you from your garments and features. I have read the ancient texts about you. The Egyptians wrote about you extensively. So did the Parthians. I have studied them.”
Marshall scratched his beard. "And?"
The Emperor lost words at that point. He didn't really have anything to say. He was just excited to see the mythical being in the flesh. But then he remembered where they were standing.
"The temple… inside there…"
"The dog and the bitch? Don't worry about them, they're dead. Fuckers hurt my boy Marty here." Marshall scoffed and spat on the ground. "Well, good luck, Marcass."
Ignoring the weird way his name was taken, the Emperor couldn't stop smiling. “Those two threatened the soul of Rome, First Man. You’ve given us more than we dared hope for. Join me, let me host a feast in your honor! I heard you like fine wine."
"That I do," Marshall said and looked behind at Hela. Then, he looked at Marty. "I guess your training can wait. Alright then, feast it is! Lead the way, Marcass."
That name again. But the Emperor ignored it. He was just too delighted that Rome would no longer be a hostage to Romulus.
####
What a fucking feast it was. So much food, so much wine. Marshall was like gluttony incarnate. He ate from dusk till dawn, and then repeated it. He forgot about teaching Marty since the feast just kept continuing day after day.
In between there were also orgies, and Marshall was only a human when it came to those things. Bedding ten Roman beauties at the same time was dreamy. Making all of them moan and sore by the morning, hot! And since he couldn't impregnate any human, he just battered their pussies with his sticky spill.
He didn't care who paid the bill. He enjoyed himself. He woke up with two mouths on his cock, and slept balls deep in his tenth pussy of the session. He really lived like an Emperor, and man, it was amazing.
It seemed, killing Romulus was that big of a deal for Rome. Heck, Marcus Aurelius was so impressed that the man officially changed the Empire's religion to Dinoism. Massive statues were built in his honor, and temples were made where men prayed for might and women prayed for fertility.
Funny enough, he couldn't get any of them pregnant in the first place. Not that he wanted to. He was just enjoying it. Wherever he went, fine women accompanied him, wearing loose stola that he could remove whenever he wanted. He banged them in the bath, he got sucked while eating, and the nights were as expected.
Even Hela got used to it. Not the sex, but the feast. She even received wedding proposals from men, but when the first guy lost all his teeth, they stopped. As for Marty, even he was prayed to by the Romans.
God of harvest, nature, earth, and health. Marty's massive statues were built in the capital and other major parts of the Empire.
Before Marshall knew it, two years had gone by, still in Rome. He'd completely forgotten about Selene, and he had a good reason for that. Somewhere in the middle of his second year there, Ajak came and decided to live with him.
From then on, he barely left his bedroom for more than half of his days. The woman was a creation of pure sexual goodness. Every inch of Ajak was soft, creamy, and so malleable. Molding her voluptuous breasts was a delight, and watching her ass tremble from his backshots was lovely, music inducing with those plaps and claps.
That night as well, he was in his third round with the slightly dusky woman, body melting against body, skin sweating as he rutted like a beast. She lay underneath him, and fuck, it was so good shoving her legs up and just slamming his cock, thrusts so powerful that a human woman would have just died.
"OOooooooh! Yes, yes, oh, dear! Marshall… You… godly man! Yes!"
Their bodies were fused, slick with sweat, groins crashing together in thunderous, primal rhythm. Ajak lay beneath him, creamy legs shoved up and folded so far that the back of her knees rested on his shoulders. Marshall loomed over her, a mountain of strength and sex, his thick chest pressing down against her thick thighs and squashing them into her trembling belly. She was breathless. Drenched.
And he was still going.
His mouth was latched onto her tits, sucking them with a hunger that bordered on savage. He wasn’t gentle; he devoured her. With each suckle, he stretched her plush tits upward, warping their shape with his mouth alone. Her nipple, stiff, flushed, button-like, stood proud and swollen, begging for more of his teeth, his tongue, his worship. He flicked and sucked, drooled and groaned, switching from left to right like he couldn’t get enough.
“Ffffuck… You taste like sex, Ajak…”
And all the while, he drilled into her. Hard. Deep. Brutal. His cock, prehistoric, primal, monstrous, slammed into her like he was trying to tear her in two.
She took every inch, every punishing thrust, like it was a gift. Her pussy was unreal. It clung to him like wet silk, snug but endless. Alien, almost, well, she was. He could hammer into her full-force, and she’d only moan louder, hips twitching upward to meet his strokes.
“Marshall—oh, my darling, my wonderful man!” Ajak cried out, her voice ragged and ripe with bliss. “You’re going to ruin me—again! Yes! Yes! More!”
She praised him like a queen pampering her favorite beast. Her tone was maternal, thick with approval, like she was proud of how hard he was fucking her.
It only made him rougher.
“Good boy… oh, dear… yessss…” she moaned, loud enough for half of Rome to hear. Her heels dug into his back, her rippling thighs shaking, her breath caught every time he bottomed out with a wet, creamy slap. “Such a strong, filthy man...”
Marshall snarled through a mouthful of tit, his eyes wild, his cock relentless. “You keep… saying shit… like that, I’m gonna fuck you through the floor.”
Squelch! Plap! Squelch! Plap!
The sounds were obscene. Wet, loud, rhythmic. A melody of skin and sweat and seed—thick, messy filth echoing off the walls of the Roman bedroom. The sheets were soaked. The air reeked of sex. And still… Marshall didn’t stop.
He was buried in her, cock twitching with fresh hunger, even after filling her up twice already. The mess between them was beyond belief; hot, slippery, viscous. Every thrust churned the cream deeper inside her, stirred it around like molten lava, and it oozed out around his shaft in thick, white ribbons.
“Ahhhhh!!” Ajak squealed; high, broken. Her body trembled in his grasp, her legs still hooked over his shoulders, her magnificent bosom bouncing in time with every brutal thrust.
Marshall groaned, jaw clenched, arms flexing as he pinned her down with everything he had. “God, you’re fucking fire… never gets boring fucking you!”
She was one of the few, the very few, who could take it all. Take him. All his size, all his strength, all the punishment he could deliver with that beastly cock of his. Most women would've tapped out after the first load.
Ajak? She just begged for more. Welcomed every inch, every ounce. Her pussy stretched, squeezed him. Wet, elastic, and so tight despite the gallons he’d already spilled inside her.
His hips pistoned faster. Harder.
And then—BAM!
The bed crashed beneath them. Legs gave out, frame collapsing with a deafening thud as they dropped a few inches. Dust flew up. Wood cracked. The entire thing buckled under the weight of their relentless fuck.
Marshall barely noticed. He didn’t fucking stop.
“Ahhh—! AHH—! OH—MARSHALL!” Ajak’s moan spiked, her voice shredded into pleasure.
He kept going. Using the sagging frame as leverage, his pelvis slamming against the underside of her thighs with wet, merciless claps. The noise was lewd as hell. Sheets clung to their sweat-slicked skin, and the slosh of overused, cum-drenched cunt echoed with every move.
Plap! Plap! Plap!
His mouth locked onto hers again. Tongue plunging in, desperate and wild. He kissed her like he needed it to breathe, like he was trying to fuck her through her lips too. She tasted like heat and heaven.
He pulled back only long enough to look down at her. At the flushed red of her cheeks, her mouth open in silent, choked moans, her eyes glazed and fluttering. Her expression was hot. So fucking lewd it made his cock throb harder inside her.
Everything about her was welcoming; her body, her sounds, her cunt. Every tremble beneath him made him want to keep going, ruin her more, push her until she forgot her own name.
Ajak met his gaze, her hands caressing the back of his head, fingers tangling in his damp curls. Her legs dangled uselessly in the air, bouncing with every thrust, her whole body quivering like jelly beneath him.
She tried to say something. “Yes… my wonderful man, my—”
Then it hit. Her hips bucked. Her mouth flew open. And her words melted into a long, aching cry of ecstasy. “—AaaaaAAAAHHHHHHHHHH!”
Her back arched off the broken bed. Her cunt clamped down hard, convulsing wildly, milking him in pulses. The moan kept going, loud and sharp, echoing off the walls, rolling through the air like thunder.
Marshall’s grin widened; And he kept fucking her right through it.
####
It was late at night, and Hela had the misfortune of having her room adjacent to Marshall's. For so long now, she'd heard all those sounds. But ever since Ajak had appeared, it had become unbearable. Before, it used to be just moans. But now, she could even hear those audible wet claps and grunts.
"Ummh…"
But perhaps, it wasn't really a misfortune. As she yet again found herself not on her bed, but rather on a chair. She sat against a table, which was pushed up against the wall, beyond which was Marshall's room.
And yet again, she found herself sliding that wall decoration and getting a direct view of what was happening on the other side through a hole she’d made. The bed was in her straight line of sight.
"Mmmmmh…" Hela pursed her lips and kept herself from making those ridiculous, disgusting sounds. But her hands, she couldn't control them.
She was still clad in her black, skin-tight garb, her usual divine armor. But tonight, parts of it had been removed. Magically peeled away with a flick of her will. Her pale, heavenly tits hung free; lush, heavy, too large for a single hand. Pink nipples stiffened under her own greedy fingers, her palm kneading one swell with the grace of someone pretending they weren’t desperate. But her other hand… was buried between her thighs.
Her legs were long, spread wide beneath her, and her fingers worked her untouched pussy with slow, reverent shame. That tight, virgin slit, soft and pink, lips delicate and puffy, was slick, trembling, hot with need.
She parted her own petals and traced her arousal in gentle circles, dragging her fingers up her soaked folds until she hit her clit, then back down, again and again. It was new. Embarrassing. Unthinkable.
It didn’t start like this. At first, she lay in bed with a pillow crushed over her ears, gritting her teeth while the moans and wet slaps seeped through the wall. She told herself she was above it. A goddess. But her thighs squeezed together every night, and her sheets always ended up damp.
Then one night, flushed and restless, she threw the pillow aside and got up. Heart pounding, cunt pulsing. She pressed her ear to the wall, breath caught in her throat. And the moment she heard Ajak scream in ecstasy, her resolve shattered. She punched a tiny hole in the wall with her godly fingers, just big enough to see.
She was the Goddess of Death.
This filth… should’ve been beneath her.
And yet here she was, sitting like a whore with her legs open, watching.
The wall decoration had been quietly slid aside. Her eyes, glassy and wide, never blinked as she stared through the crude opening.
What she saw…
Marshall. Towering. Sweating. Thrusting into Ajak’s soaked, ruined cunt with relentless, brutal force. His cock, fat, creamy, glorious, was pistoning deep, dragging back coated in white. The mess was insane. Sticky seeds oozed from her with every thrust, soaking the sheets beneath them.
Ajak’s moans were feral, high, and cracked, her body writhing as Marshall devoured her from the inside.
Hela’s breath quickened.
She licked her dry lips and slipped two fingers inside herself.
“Ohhhh…” she gasped, biting her lip to stay silent.
Her inner walls gripped her fingers tightly. Slick heat welcomed them instantly. It was awkward, at first, an invasion she hadn’t known. But her body betrayed her. She pressed in deeper, curling them, hunting that spot inside that made her hips jerk every time she grazed it.
The sounds from beyond the wall were thunderous. She could even smell it. The scent of sex, heavy and heady, leaking through the cracks. She leaned forward more, her breasts swaying gently, one hand still toying with a nipple, the other swirling slow circles against her inner walls.
Her head tipped back… then forward again to watch.
More sounds now. Louder.
"OOOOOH! Marshall! I'm coming! I'm coming on your beautiful, thick… oh, so lovely fat cock! Again… Mmmm…!" Ajak’s voice echoed like a curse through the wall.
And that was it.
Hela pressed her cheek harder to the wall, forehead damp with sweat. Her fingers plunged deeper. Her hips bucked.
“Ahh—” she gasped, her quiet moans breaking loose despite herself. Her fingers rubbed and curled, her clit pulsing with fire. That strange, heavy pressure deep inside peaked, her belly tensing, her thighs quivering.
Her entire body snapped tight like a bowstring, and she came. Soaking her own hand. Shuddering. Gasping. Her pussy clamped down, spasming around her fingers, while thick nectar dripped from her cunt, rolling down her porcelain thighs in gleaming trails.
She slumped forward, trembling. But something was… wrong.
It felt good. No, amazing—but not enough.
She swallowed hard, eyes still locked on Marshall’s cock, plunging deep, churning Ajak into moaning, cock-drunk ruin. For just a second, just a flicker of weakness, she imagined it inside her. Splitting her. Stretching her. Filling her with his thick, creamy—
“No!” she hissed, shaking her head violently.
She yanked herself back from the wall, frowning, cheeks flushed, chest heaving. She looked down.
Her thighs were glistening. Her fingers—wet. Her chair? A soaked mess beneath her.
“Mmm… Filthy. Disgusting! What has happened to me?!”
####
Back in the ruined bedroom, the air was thick with the scent of sweat and sex. The mattress sagged beneath their bodies, the frame long shattered beneath the weight of their marathon fucking.
Marshall loomed over her, panting, soaked, every muscle tight with need.
Ajak was gone. Her eyes had rolled back, her mouth hung open in a silent, breathless cry, and her cunt was clenching down in wild, uncontrollable pulses. Her legs kicked, toes curled. Her thighs trembled against his ribs.
Then—she managed a scream of deliverance.
“AaaaAAAHH! OHHH—MARSHALL!”
Ajak came with a violent flood. Her entire body locked up as a torrent of clear nectar burst out of her, squirting hard against his groin, drenching both of them in a soaking spray that splattered the sheets, his balls, the broken bed beneath them. Her pussy gushed a fountain, spasming in waves of pure euphoria. Her hips bucked up into him like she was trying to push him deeper, her ass sliding slightly from the sheer wetness pooling beneath.
And Marshall lost it.
He felt the eruption, the heat, the soaking mess, and his cock twitched so hard it hurt. He dropped his chest fully against her, folding her legs tighter. His massive hands swept down, hands wrapping around her breasts, both of them—and mashing them together.
His mouth plunged down, sucking both swollen nipples into his mouth at once, growling as his tongue lashed and swirled between them like he was devouring the last drops of heaven.
Plap! Plap! Plap!
The sound of his thrusts was thunderous. His fucking turned brutal.
His balls slapped her ass.
His cock plunged deep.
“AAAAAHHHHHH!” Marshall roared to the ceiling, his head thrown back, spine arched, eyes shut tight as he came with the force of a beast. His cock throbbed violently, swelling inside her, then exploded.
Hot. Heavy. Endless.
Burst after burst of thick, nasty batter pumped into her. His whole body jerked with each spasm. It gushed out around his cock almost instantly. The seal broke, and the overflow spilled from her stuffed pussy like melted cream. It leaked at the seams, dripping over her ass, coating his balls, soaking the ruined bed in thick, white filth.
“Fuuuuck… Jesus… You’re meant to be fucked… Ajak… Goddamn it…” he panted, growling as he collapsed on her, still twitching inside. “I could unload in you forever…”
She giggled through the afterglow, her fingers running lazily through his damp hair as he leaned down and kissed her again. Sloppy, wet, tongue sliding messily against hers.
She kissed back, just as needy, lips parted, still rocking her hips beneath him. She wanted him to stay hard. Wanted every inch of that softening monster still squeezed inside her. What had started as a simple curiosity… had become something else entirely. A need. A dependency. Her shameful addiction.
"Mmm… An hour…" Marshall declared, still lying on top of Ajak. "Let's continue in an hour."
"Anytime, as many times, however much you want… I'm all yours." Ajak declared, not love, but her addiction to sex, the most basic and ancient habit of humans that she had now come to love firsthand.
"Man, you really know just what to say."
Marshall groaned with a big, satisfied smile and pulled out of her. But he didn't leave her just yet, he kept his hands dug into her dough-like thighs, pushing them up and wide. He watched her beautiful petals leak, and leak, and leak.
Her dark pink, battered slit leaked like a broken faucet. Globs of cum dripping in slow, thick trails. Sticky streaks rolled down her crack, pooling beneath her ass. The sheets were a swamp, drenched, reeking of sex and ruin. His cream painted her folds, her thighs, even her belly.
And she giggled again. A low, feminine giggle that made her breasts bounce, her thighs jiggle, her soft belly ripple under the weight of everything they’d done. She didn’t even wipe herself.
Just rested there.
Gutted. Glistening. Filthy.
"Greatest wonder of the world!" Marshall proclaimed.
It wasn't just directed at Ajak's pussy. No, it was for every single one in the universe.
100 million years of isolation does that to a man's brain.
"Time for some wine!"
####
Eventually, Marshall's party in Rome came to an end. Marcus Aurelius died, and his son took power. Marshall didn't like the boy at all, and neither did the people. But an emperor was still an emperor.
Boom!
"Wraaaa!"
Marshall sent Marty and Hela back to his main cave complex in Egypt. He stayed behind, roamed around, looked at some other budding kingdoms, and then returned to Rome. He entered the colosseum for the fun of it, wanting to experience it.
Sure enough, it was exciting. With countless people cheering in the stands, and Lucius Aelius Aurelius Commodus, the emperor in person, the stakes were made high. Lions and rhinos were released with a hundred gladiators into the pit.
Marshall was having fun… throwing the lions into the stands, despite how high they were. He loved seeing these beautiful beasts maul those excited spectators to death, soaking the stands in crimson. Chaos was beautiful there.
"That's what you get for hurting them for your pleasure. Only I get to do that!" Marshall muttered, and this time, lifted an entire rhino. Weirdly enough, thanks to the slow evolution, the animals seemed to have an innate fear of Marshall. They never attacked him, and when he lifted them, they whimpered, as if seeking his mercy.
Woosh!
He threw the rhino into the stands as well. Soon enough, the beautiful beast shoved people to death.
Slowly, the gladiators who tried to attack him died, and animals were thrown into the stands. It was total chaos, and yet the emperor hadn't left. The man continued to sit in his canopied, luxurious seat, with a leaf crown on his head, regal toga and tunic covering his body, two slaves gently waving a cloth fan behind him.
"ARE YOU NOT ENTERTAINED!?"
Marshall roared, giggling. He really wanted to do that for some reason.
But surprisingly, the emperor stood up and raised his right hand towards Marshall.
"The fuck's he doing?" Marshall watched the dumb looking man slowly reveal a thumb tilted sideways. And then, that thumb moved, pointing upwards. "He's rating me? Me?"
Boom!
Marshall crouched his legs and leaped off into the air, leaving a crater in the ground. His leap was so high that it defied humanity, not that he was a human anymore.
Bam!
He landed right on the platform where the emperor sat. The guards became alert, but they just couldn't move, as if frozen in their spot. Not just the guards, but all the servants and some nobles around the emperor were frozen.
"Man, you’re really scraping the bottom of the gene pool, huh? I’ve seen plankton with more charm," Marshall said and stood in front of the speechless emperor. "Your dad must’ve sneezed you out by accident. What was your name again? Co—Colo-something?? No, Condomus. Yeah, that fits. Worn out, full of filth, barely holding together. I saw the shit you do, not that I give a fuck but man… You got one really hateable, slappable face."
"G-G-Guards!"
Marshall looked to the left and the right, and then smiled. He stepped closer and gently patted his palm on the emperor's face. "Don't tell me you shit your pants already. Seriously, your dad was amazing. Man knew how to throw the best party while writing about stoicism. He loved the library I showed him back in my place."
"Y… You dare touch the emperor of r—"
SPLASH!
Commodus never got to finish his words. He received a hard slap on the right cheek, a slap so strong that half his face just exploded—mouth, jaw, nose, eyes, the entire chunk was gone, splattered across the luxurious curtains, and the armor of a nearby guard.
Thud!
Commodus fell, or rather, his corpse fell.
"Fuck! Fuck, fucking fuck!" Marshall cursed, looking at his hand. A tiny fly was plastered on his palm. "I was just swatting that damn fly, not the emperor!"
"..."
Scratching his head awkwardly, Marshall sighed and looked at the dead body. "Well, it's fate, I guess."
Yes, it was very shameless to call it fate after murdering the emperor of the Roman Empire.
He swept his gaze at the nearby people. All their eyes were wide, filled with dread. They wanted to move, run away. Even the guards wanted to run away.
"Pick a better emperor next time, maybe. I'm out." Marshall waved at them and jumped away, flying into the sky.
Thud!
Thud!
Thud!
One after another, the women fell to their knees, and then the older senators nearby. The guards balanced themselves with their spears. Some of those fallen had a wet puddle underneath them.
And then…
"AAAAAAAH!"
The first scream came.
The emperor Lucius Aelius Aurelius Commodus was dead, slapped to death.
####
5 Years Later,
"You better not fuck this up, Marty. I'm staking my pride on this." Marshall ordered his lovable goofball T-Rex. "I've taught you for two years now."
No, they weren't sparring. No, they weren't talking about Marty's training.
It was the top floor of Marshall's cave in Egypt. He'd just kept digging it and finally made a massive hall near the tip, with huge open balconies for a nice view. In there, he sat on a wooden chair, completely nude, cock dangling, legs crossed, one arm lavishly on his upper thigh, the other arm raised high, flexing his biceps.
A few meters from him was Marty with a massive straw hat on his T-Rex head, standing in front of a gigantic paper canvas, with buckets of paint that Marshall had borrowed from Rome. And now, Marty was to paint Marshall's nude beauty.
Luckily, Hela wasn't there. Or so Marshall thought. She definitely had her eye on him from some hidden hole.
"Alright, Marty. Draw me like one of your French girls."
"Graaawl?"
"What I mean is—Draw me nice and hot, sexy, like a god, so seductive that women drop dead from my mere scent, crawl to me, and spread their legs and moan—Oh, Marshall… shove that long, massive, fat, hard, thick, beautiful cock in our cute, warm puss—"
Bam!
Marty threw a spare paintbrush at Marshall's head.
"Fuuuuggrrrr!"
"Fuck you, bastard! Like hell you slipped! I know you did that on purpose! And the fuck you mean I got a bitch ass face? I raised you, boy! I let you suckle on my manly tiddi—Oh, we have a guest!"
A beautiful, voluptuous woman, covered in black leather with a black and red cape, flew right in through the massive balcony. As she landed on her feet, her mounds jiggled. She wiped sweat off her face and relaxed her worried, creased brows.
But when she looked inside, she froze, her face turned paler than it already was.
"Who the fuck are you?" Marshall asked, not even bothering to move or cover himself.
"I'm Selene… I-I'm back, respected First Man… I got it! I brought you a hundred kilograms of vibranium as promised."
"..."
Marshall rubbed his chin and tried to think. But as he felt his cock harden by those beautiful pair of globes, he nodded. "I remember now! Big titty goth witch! Yeah, I remember you. I gave you one year, and how long has it been? Ten? Twenty? Damn, you deserve punishment. Crawl to me, on all fours."
"..."
Selene gulped and looked at the T-Rex for help. But the massive beast wasn't even looking at her, busy painting. And it wasn't even a good painting. It was fucking stick figures.
"Come on, crawl." Marshall raised his voice.
Thud!
Selene fell to her knees; his mere voice felt primordial to her psyche. She felt submissive to him, like her blood, her DNA, ordered her to. It wasn’t mind control, she knew that. Yet, there she was now, crawling towards the naked god like a cat.
"Fuck!" Marshall stared at her dangling, insanely round breasts, and then there was that pear-shaped rear, higher than her front. He was hard as a rock, cock standing vertically straight. "Marty! See, I told you! Women do come crawling to me!"
"Hufff!" Marty just scoffed with his nose and focused on drawing.
Marshall was too busy looking at the stunning woman.
"F-First God, please… hear me first… I'll accept every punishment—Mmm~"
Before she could finish, Marshall's chair hovered an inch above the ground and moved forward towards Selene. With his legs spread wide, when he landed his chair right in front of her, his cock plopped straight down on her face.
Selene gulped. That scent woke something deep inside her, something primal. Her womb spoke to her, screamed at her. That warm throb on her face made her open her mouth, and her tongue slipped out. She tried to fight that thought, but it was instinct. As if she belonged to this man, as if... Why, she asked herself. She had no answers.
"Mmmmgh…" Selene inhaled a deep breath, taking in the scent of his throbbing shaft. "I… I wanted to… tell yo…"
BOOM!
Wooosh!
BOOM!
Grrrrr!
The cave started to shake.
No, it was the entire mountain.
Loud, explosive bangs resounded everywhere. Marty's painting canvas fell, annoying him. And Marshall's eyes, filled with arousal moments ago, turned red with rage.
"Who dares attack my big, beautiful cave!"
"Mmm! First Man!" Selene finally shouted, hardly controlling her own instincts to pounce on that shaft. "T-The… I stole the vibranium! It's the Wakandans!"
______________
Coming Up Next: Hela's heat swells. Marshall visits the Empire where the sun never sets. Ajak has a daddy? Marty loves Japan. Someone wants Marshall's land.
Comments
MrPlotThickens
I get you. But he can't learn magic by himself. He has to inherit it by dying. That's what Upgrading Death is all about. Though about human martial arts, I agree.
DarkestCalling
Only thing I'm kinda really disliking about the mc is how he's basically pure unga bunga caveman and nothing else it's a bit entertaining but it's getting stale like he's never once tried to learn magic even just to keep his mementos preserved or for anything really like he's basically only as smart as a high schooler It just feels utterly unrealistic he wouldn't pick up stuff as a hobby just from sheer boredom especially with being in marvel and the power scale allowing him to push things to bullshit levels Like he seems to be either inspired by or at least resembles savage but at least he became a master of almost every physical martial art created his own was a genius etc etc Idk hes just seeming more bland like I just keep coming back to he lived that long and has literally almost no personal growth whatso ever like it just makes him seem kinda pathetic in a way
Robert Brown
Three iconic mutants gone before they are even given a chance to be born.....may they rest in peace.
Robert Brown
° Rip, James Howlett,°rip, Victor Creed,°rip, Laura Kinney. For at least two you three will be missed.
Sebas Tian
Ahh wakanda, such a disappointment xD.
thephysicsholic 002
Looking forward Marshall BREEDING Selene!
