Black Out update (warning: NC)

With his hands holding tight to Carol’s well-rounded hips, Peter drove himself deep into her cunt. He slammed his cock into her repeatedly, his balls stinging as they smacked against her curvy ass. Then he pulled out of her so quickly, Carol moaned to be deprived of him. 

Despite the fact that her rape had stopped, all she could think was that she hoped he wouldn’t hit her again. She tried to speak through the gag, tell him he could fuck her if he wanted, just not to hurt her again. She could even get wet for him. She told herself that was what she was doing. Making herself wet. Cooperating. Doing anything to make it through this, and not caring at all how it felt. 

She didn’t wonder to herself why she was so afraid of him hitting her, and yet so welcoming of having Peter inside her.

Carol felt him rub his wet cock between her buttocks. Her sluggish mind slowly registered his intentions; she moaned pitifully, but only just before she felt the pressure of his swollen cockhead against her taut asshole. It resisted him and Peter exerted more pressure. Carol screamed into the gag, unable to believe her anus was already giving in, stretching, opening to his vicious advance. She shut her eyes, as if she could block the world out when she couldn’t even keep Peter from her body.

“You feel it?” Peter grunted. “That’s what I’m going to fuck—your hot little ass. I’m going to send my cock up your ass until you can fucking taste it. I’m going to fuck your tight hole, come in it, and the only thing I’ll regret is leaving your ass stretched so wide that you won’t be able to keep a drop of my cum in there.”

Carol groaned: Peter was pushing into her harder now, making her ass hurt. She felt his knob ramming through her surrendering asshole and welcomed an end to the pain, even as that made humiliation burn deeply in her conflicted mind. Peter’s cockhead pumped into her opening, with her anus wrapping around his shaft, the pain of his entry lashing through Carol. She let out a muffled scream into her gag.

“Shit, you’re tight!” Peter husked. “I’m really gonna have to ruin this ass to fuck you!”

Despite his words, Peter paused, only holding himself inside her asshole instead of shoving more in. Carol felt absurdly grateful for the breather. The sharp pain of his entrance was going away, though her stretched anus still throbbed so intensely that tears ran from her eyes. Her asshole was clenching and clamping around the collar of Peter’s cock—she wasn’t doing it deliberately, but she was afraid Peter would think she liked it. She couldn’t make herself stop, though. Her asshole just kept squeezing tighter and tighter.

Peter moaned with pleasure. “Yeah, keep jacking me off with your ass. You won’t make me come, not before I’m good and ready, but you sure will make me enjoy fucking you!”

He dug his fingers into Carol’s hips and lunged into her asshole. Pain flared up in Carol all over again and when she screamed, it was like he was driving it out of her body with the impalement of his massive prick.

Peter let her muffled cry die down, resting with his cock buried in the fiery tightness of her bowels. His balls were nestled against her wet cunt. He breathed with heavy excitement as, beneath him, Carol shuddered with pain and felt her asshole squeezing at the base of his member despite her debasement. 

It seemed impossible, horrifying, that her anus was still massaging his prick after he’d stretched her beyond all reason, but it was happening—she couldn’t make it stop. Tears covered her cheeks, dripped from her chin as her face burned with shame to match the heat in her pained body.

Carol moaned into the gag, thrashed around as best she could, trying to tell him how much it hurt. She knew he didn’t care, that it wouldn’t make any difference, but trying to make Peter realize was the only thing she could do. Maybe she could make him feel a little guilty about how he was using her.

As if sensing her thoughts, Peter slapped her ass, jostling her about his impaling prick and disrupting the delicate stasis her body had found that minimized her pain. “The faster you make me come, the sooner it’ll be over. How about it, Carol? You get me off and I’ll leave your ass alone.”

It made sense to her. If she helped him come, the pain would be over—he’d lose interest in her. And the quicker she made him come, the less pain she would feel. She couldn’t afford to be idealistic now. Pleasing him would be helping herself. 

And so she wiggled her ass as much as the webbing that held her would allow. It hurt, but not as much as when he was forcing his way inside her. Her anus was more relaxed, more accepting of his rutting prick inside her. Peter laughed wickedly, watching Carol bounce her ass against his groin.

“Of course, maybe you just like it,” he taunted. “You like it this way, baby? You love a cock in your ass? Then show me, cocksucker. Fuck your cute little ass on my pole!”

In desperation, and trying her best to withstand the pain, Carol shoved her ass back against his groin. Peter laughed again and, settling his hands on his hips, rocked his ass forward—meeting Carol’s thrusts, fucking her as much as she was fucking him. The rhythm helped soothe the pain and the feeling of his balls slapping against her pussy was a welcome distraction. 

To her surprise, Carol felt a slight tingle beginning in the space between her cunt and rectum—growing perversely into unwanted pleasure, seeping through the pain to become something different, bittersweet. It still hurt, but it also felt good having her asshole stretched, having his prick throbbing in her bowels. It felt like her asshole would be gaping open forever, but that kept feeling better and better!

Carol couldn’t understand it—had no way of rationalizing how the pleasure had come to her through all the pain, the degradation of what Peter was doing. But she couldn’t deny it. Her asshole was sucking hotly at Peter’s endowment—her pussy swelled, labia engorged, everything slick and wet. Her clit tingled, grew into a tight, throbbing knot.

Peter drove his cock into her deep, hard, and with every flare of pain, it felt better. She jutted her ass into Peter’s thrusts as hard as she could, finding a rumbling of ecstasy in the collision of their bodies. Carol cried more, tears of joy, and she whimpered with soft surprise at how thoroughly pain had mixed with pleasure.

Peter smiled, seeing how her body was giving in as he pistoned into her tightly clenched asshole. He watched his cock pull its disappearing act between her taut buttocks. The ring of her anus drew in with his thrusts and sucked at him as he pulled out, trying to get him back in. “I knew you’d like it eventually. I knew you couldn’t help being a whore.”

The rubbing together of pleasure and pain into delicious friction had Carol on the verge of coming, almost losing herself in it until Peter reminded her that this wasn’t what she wanted—that she was his victim, nothing more. She tried to fight off the sensation, not wanting to come, not wanting to make his victory over her complete. She didn’t want to be a whore. She didn’t want to be Peter’s whore—she could already hear him, telling her all the things she already was to him. Cockhole. Cum dumpster. She’d given him so much that she couldn’t let him take anymore.

“Ah, nice and tight!” Peter groaned, panting as he fucked in and out of Carol’s warm asshole. “You’re a fine piece of ass, Carol. Really showing me how much you appreciate my dick. Maybe I should cut you loose and let you really fuck my cock. Would you like that, bitch? Would you like fucking yourself on my prick even more than you like being tied up?”

I wish you would, Carol thought. If he would only cut her loose, she’d rip his head off. She’d tear his arms and legs off. She’d crush his precious cock. She’d… she’d…

His cock felt longer and thicker than ever, going so deep into her ass that it was impossible to think of anything else. And the harder Peter fucked her with it, the better it felt. Carol told herself with what little mind she had left that she couldn’t be feeling pleasure, not from having him rape her ass, yet it was undeniable. The gag of webbing was not enough to stop her from hearing her own pleasured moans. The naughty tingle she’d felt had grown into searing ecstasy. 

Carol thrust herself as hard as she could into Peter’s cock. She could feel his prick pulsing inside the tightly sucking ring of her anus, bloated with cum, ready to spill it into her ass. She clamped her asshole as tight as possible, hoping to make him spurt, even as a part of her rued the pleasure coming to an end.

“I’m going to fill this ass up!” Peter yelled, plunging his cock into Carol up to the balls. “I’ll give you so much cum you’ll be fucking round!”

He pistoned into Carol, his balls beating at her sex, his throbbing erection feeling like it was jackhammering in all directions. It seemed to take an eternity, but finally he went stiff, his manhood so deep that Carol felt like her entire body was wrapped around it. Then he came, his thick cum gushing into Carol, spreading its sick warmth through everything she could feel. 

She came. Peter didn’t even leave her that. He made her come and it hurt, it hurt so sweetly she knew she’d never forget it, that she would compare every orgasm she ever felt from now on to the time when she’d been Peter’s bitch. 

Carol’s asshole relaxed, finally stopping its throbbing. Peter finished coming, gasping heavily, his weight on Carol’s back. He was still inside her ass, but his cock wasn’t hard anymore—that cut down on the pain. Then Peter pulled himself out of her, hurting her once more, leaving her anus gaping open.

“Slut,” Peter whispered in her ear, just as she felt how wide her asshole had become.

Carol squirted. She moaned with embarrassment, trying to stop, but all she could manage was making herself spurt her cream in staggered gushes. She flushed with shame as humiliated tears ran down her cheeks, putting the finishing touch on her ruined mascara.

Peter smiled—she could feel him doing it, adding to her mortification. “That’s it, Carol,” he mocked her. “Come all you want. You got me off, now feel free to squirt. I can’t imagine how good it feels for a whore like you to be full of cum. You must be really enjoying it.”

A hot stream of her juices spewed from her, splashing against Peter’s thighs, and he laughed joyously, rubbing it into his naked flesh. “God, thank you, Carol. This is the perfect way to express your gratitude. I should go to Avengers Tower like this, just covered in all your squirting. Who all do you think would be able to tell it was you that came all over me? Wolverine? Hulk? You think they’ll keep it to themselves? That’d be an interesting rumor. The high and mighty Captain Marvel came all over your friendly neighborhood Spider-Man. Maybe I should bottle some for later. I bet the Fantastic Four would like to know how your cunt smells too.”

Carol hated herself for it, but her pussy erupted into orgasm again. She groaned into the webbing, surprised and ashamed at how thoroughly she had debased herself—no, been debased by Peter, and enjoyed it. It was impossible, the last thing in the world she would’ve expected, but she couldn’t stop coming. It was like Peter wouldn’t let her—like he owned her pussy even now.

Peter ripped away the gag, his glove smelling of her juices. “I’m sorry, did you say something? I wasn’t listening.”

Carol didn’t say anything. Nothing at all.

“Usually this is the part where I’d clean myself off with your hair, but since you basically don’t have any hair with that stupid soccer mom look of yours…”

Carol placidly opened her mouth as Peter eased his cock into it, carrying with it the taste of her own sweaty body for her to suck away. As she’d hoped, as she’d dreaded, she came again. 

Peter rustled her boyishly short hair. “That’ll do, sport. Now spit it out on the ground. You don’t deserve to swallow my cum.”