Captain Marvel: Space Whore (minific)

Captain Marvel: Space Whore

by High-Heeled Jill

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As she stepped out onto the docks to start her working day, Captain Marvel realised that could not recall the name of this particular space station. It was an eminently forgettable place, generically decadent in a manner that reminded her of Las Vegas, a superficial coat of glamour over a corrupt core, and as a result behind the façade it was rather run-down and ramshackle despite all the people and money flowing into the place. 

Stranded alone of the far side of the universe, slowly making her way back towards Earth, Carol had just been through too many stations like this in the last six months to bother remembering all of their names. The star-lost heroine had been on this station for almost a week now and once she left she would never return, and she hopefully would never have reason to remember anything she had done here. 

Captain Marvel walked among the shadows of the gantries and access ramps, outside of the productive areas where canisters and cargo pods and the less wealthy passengers were loaded and offloaded from the dozens of spaceships that occupied the huge hangar. She had a good view of the new arrivals disembarking from an aging passenger liner, aliens from dozens of different species; all here to gamble or carouse or fornicate in this station’s less-than-respectable establishments. 

The third of those pursuits made these newcomers Carol’s best prospect, so Captain Marvel sauntered towards the inspection checkpoint, swaying her hips and thrusting out her breasts as she surveyed her potential customers.

It had not been a matter of choice, at the start, becoming a whore. A cataclysmic event where she had helped saved the entire universe had left her stranded on the wrong side of it, as far from Earth as it was possible to be, alone, and without a ship. Her powers allowed her to fly through space unaided, but this sector did not have jump gate technology to hasten her journey, so it would take her hundreds of thousands of years to get back to Earth on her own. She needed warp capable transport. 

Unfortunately for Captain Marvel, despite her many assets it had turned out that there was only one that was in high economic demand this far from home. 

Her body. She was unique, a human in a part of the universe that was far away from any species that looked like her. That made her shapely, sexy body a highly desirable commodity. She’d tried to find another way, to resist the inevitable, but in the end she’d had to compromise her morals and prostitute herself for transportation or the money to pay for her passage. Much to her regret, it had turned out that not only was she good at being a whore, she really liked being a whore.

Working the starport docks like this, as much as she enjoyed it, was always a little frustrating. She much preferred to work her passage aboard ship because it kept her moving towards home, but sometimes there just weren’t any vacancies that were heading her way. On those occasions she had no choice but to earn enough to buy a ticket for as far as she could find in the right direction, and she hated losing the time.

Captain Marvel slowed her pace to pose seductively for the potential customers flowing out from the customs checkpoint, where incurious guards maintained only the barest of pretences of doing their jobs. To human eyes, the newly arrived aliens were bizarrely varied, ranging from giant scaly skinned spidery things, fur-covered centipedes with bat-like faces, winged jellyfish with tentacle legs, all the way to what looked like an ambulatory shrubbery. But as strange as the species out here were, to them Captain Marvel was even stranger. The only human, the only humanoid of any kind, on this side of the universe.

At first sight, the human heroine appeared to be dressed in her red, blue, and gold costume, but as she got closer an observer would note that it seemed to fit extremely snugly, clinging to every curve without restraining the free movement of her breasts, the fall of the light clearly highlighting her erect nipples. Closer still, the cleft of her pussy would resolve into distinct labia and a rather prominent clitoris, and an intelligent viewer would realise that her costume did not simply look skintight, it was actually Carol’s skin! 

Carol Danvers was naked! Except for her high-heeled boots and the golden collar around her neck, her colourful costume was an illusion, like a tattoo or perhaps body paint, her skin was coloured to match the design of her Captain Marvel attire.

The illusory uniform was created by the chromatic nano-cells that now impregnated every inch of her skin, essentially giving her a full-body programmable tattoo. The nano-cells were networked and also touch-responsive like a smart-phone’s screen, so that with a tap of her wrist she could change her skin’s display to almost anything that she wanted. She was a walking billboard, if she so chose. Despite that, she had programmed her skin to reproduce her superheroic costume, even though that meant nothing to aliens out here, because it still meant something to her. It was a reminder of who she was, who she wanted to return to being, which she clung to as a bulwark against the temptation to settle down into her disturbingly satisfying new career. 

The nano-cells of her smart-skin could not only alter her smart-skin’s colouration, they could make it reflective like the metallic gold in her costume, or glow like the tattoo on her ass. That glowing tattoo was the one exception to her infinitely variable tattoo. It was permanent, and it was always visible no matter how she configured her smart-skin, the corporate brand that marked her as a fully licensed, franchised whore. It would remain on her for as long as she was employed by the biggest chain of brothels in the universe, a franchise of franchises that had spread and mutated across all of known space, to form the economic backbone of multi-galactic trade. The universe’s oldest profession was also its most wide-ranging.

Its name, loosely translated, was ‘StarFucks’. Other possible interpretations were ‘SpaceWhores’ and ‘CosmicCunts’, but with its circular logo of a feminine figure jacking off two cocks onto her face the StarFucks name just seemed too fitting for the ubiquitous prostitution franchise. And in Captain Marvel’s case, the logo was actually her face. The figure was customised to match the species of the whore who wore it, and for Carol the only human they had to model the logo on was her. 

If humans ever made it out this far, then every human whore would have Carol’s face tattooed on her ass!

* * *

Captain Marvel turned and shook her ass in the direction of the checkpoint, to ensure that any of the aliens who didn’t recognise her sluttish body language for what it was could see the StarFucks tattoo and understand that she was a whore for hire. It didn’t take long to attract her first prospect. 

The alien approaching Carol towered over the naked human, almost eight feet tall, with a seven-eyes on stalks that projected out of a wide armoured head somewhat like a crustacean’s. Iridescent blue-green exo-skeletal plates shimmered and jingled as it shivered with excitement at the novelty of a human whore out here where no human had ever been seen. The alien walked on four wide-spaced legs, with an armoured trunk that sprouted three arms. The two longer limbs terminated in heavy claws while the smaller central arm ended with a long-fingered hand. The crab-centaur’s eyestalks swivelled wildly as it looked over the unfamiliar figure of the exotic whore before it. 

Carol was no more familiar with this species than it was with hers, and she felt her pussy moisten at the prospect of fucking it. She loved discovering strange new cocks and exploring new sexual experiences, seeking orgasmic pleasures that no human had ever felt before. It was extraordinary to realise that she might never have learned just how much of a xenophile she was if she had not been stranded out here on the far side of the universe. 

Back on Earth, she’d always found sex to be a disappointment, and had half convinced herself that she must be asexual despite wanting to enjoy sex. She’d had a strong sex-drive that no man – or woman – had been able to fulfil. It had not been until she had been forced to prostitute herself, selling her body to an ugly slug-faced alien with two thick, squishy, tentacle-cocks that she had experienced her first real orgasm. 

She had cum before, or so she had thought, but Carol had discovered that the pitiful pleasure that she had previously accepted had been but a pale imitation of a real orgasm; mind-blowing bliss that left her lying limp and drooling on the floor. A pleasure that she could only feel while whoring herself out to utterly inhuman alien creatures who treated her with the callous contempt and disrespect that most males felt towards the prostitutes that they fucked. 

There was some psychology at work that Carol had not examined, because she had been too hung up on the fact that she was turned on by monsters. Not literally monsters, but aliens so far from any human norm that there was no frame of common reference. Monstrous, strange, bizarre, ugly, inhuman things that should have scared or repelled her but instead aroused her.

At first, Carol had hoped that her response had been some freak thing, a bizarre biochemical reaction to the first alien’s secretions perhaps. But it happened the second time that she prostituted herself too, fucking a reptilian dino-squid that made her melt into a puddle of quivering cum-quakes. And the third time, fucking a bird-faced scarab creature that had left her gurgling mindlessly. And the fourth, being spit-roasted by two rhino-hided police officers who had been arresting her for unlicensed prostitution. 

Every single time that she sold her body for another sentient’s pleasure, Captain Marvel experienced at least as much orgasmic ecstasy as her clients. She hated that she loved it so much. It was a revelation that had shattered her self image, but once she had enjoyed true sexual fulfilment she knew that she had to come to terms with who she really was; a whore for alien cock.

Carol was pulled back into the present when the crustacean’s mandibles chattered and one of its claws slapped her ass. 

The glowing tattoo flashed, and the smart-skin on her naked back changed to display the pricelist of all the sex-acts she was licensed to perform, along with her physical limitations and compatibilities. Captain Marvel reached up to pull her long blonde hair aside as she fully turned around to let her prospective customer peruse the menu. 

The buyer could make their selections by tapping the text on her skin, and the choices would be logged by her collar. Payment was held in an escrow account until the collar had determined that Captain Marvel had completed the selected sex acts by tracking her biological data, after which the payment would be authorised. 

Minus the large cut that went to her technical owners of course, along with a smaller deduction to cover the “additional licensing fee”, more accurately described as a bribe, to the station authorities. 

Captain Marvel was a free agent, not apprenticed or enslaved to any single brothel. That was not a normal arrangement for an inexperienced whore, but one she had negotiated for through a combination of her ‘auditions’ and the judicial application of her cosmic-tier superpowers when any executive-pimp tried to exceed his legally mandated authority. It had not taken her long to convince the relevant individuals in StarFucks corporate hierarchy to provide her with the status that would allow her to work and earn a living while also travelling across to the far side of the universe, to the tiny backwater world of Earth. 

Ideally she could do both at the same time, working her passage aboard ship as a resident whore or ‘travelling companion’.

The cruise liners were the best. Their brothels were well staffed and worked regular shifts that granted the prostitutes plenty of free time, allowing her to see the sights or to fraternise with passengers who were not currently fucking her. Not that she wanted to be whoring her way across the universe like some pornographic hitchhiker, she had to remind herself on an almost daily basis, but since she did have to then this was the way she would prefer to do it, travelling in style and comfort with the best possible working conditions. And as a bonus, her customers were mostly well behaved and highly diverse in species, so she had the pleasure of experiencing a wide variety of interestingly shaped alien cocks.

The second best was usually the haulage ships. These experiences varied considerably, but no matter what they looked like most of the single-species crews were much like blue collar workers everywhere; they worked hard and played even harder, which resulted in Captain Marvel also having to work hard to keep the crew sexually satisfied. But Carol did not mind hard work, especially once she had become reconciled to the fact that she loved being a whore.

Fleet R&R duty was bad. Not only because the military whore ships were understaffed and overworked – she had pulled shifts of over 60 hours getting fucked non-stop by overly vigorous soldiers – but because she usually found herself working alongside literal sex slaves. Prisoners of war, criminals, and conscientious objectors, sentenced or drafted to serve as ‘comfort whores’ for the troops. At least as a franchised whore Captain Marvel could leave for a better gig, but not before she liberated the sex slaves. She was still a superheroine, as well as a whore. After she’d had to destroy almost the entire armada of a fleet whose Admiral had refused to listen to reason from a worthless whore, she tried to steer clear of such posts. Battles like that cost her time and opportunities. Unfortunately, sometimes space navies were the only ships going in the right direction.

But the worst of all were the pirate ships. Captain Marvel avoided them as much as possible, but too often there was no other choice. Pirates took routes that nobody else would. Being owned by a ruthless megacorp at least meant that she was safe from become another piece of merchandise for the criminal scum, not even pirates wanted to tangle with StarFucks lawyers, but they also had no respect for the price list, and revelled in making her perform her duties in the most degrading and humiliating ways that their corrupt and perverted minds could imagine. And she hated how much she still enjoyed it.

But at least it was forward motion. Being stuck waiting for a ship with a sex worker vacancy that was heading in the right direction, working to earn the fare to pay her way if there wasn’t, made her feel the stress of her situation, lost and alone on the wrong side of the universe. So far she had managed to avoid the sort of self-destructive behaviours with which she had sabotaged herself in the past. Despite the temptation she was determined not to fall back into alcoholism, but during these prolonged downtimes, when she felt like she would never get back home, Captain Marvel started to think that perhaps she had just substituted one form of self harm, drink, for another, sex.  

The sweet oblivion of sexual bliss.

* * *

Captain Marvel smiled at the crab-faced alien, feeling a shiver of repulsive arousal as she knelt down before him, only partially hidden amongst some offloaded crates. It was a temporary shelter, because the shipment was still being worked on, with floating haulers slowly whittling down the barrier that concealed her from public view. There was no real danger in what she was doing, not in a spaceport as corrupt and debauched as this one, but the illusion of risk still made the human heroine wet with excitement as she unfastened the seal on the alien’s flight suit – little more than a harness on which it could fasten tools and devices – with practised ease. 

Her customer’s mandibles clicked and clattered as its inhumanly shaped mouth complimented her in the crudest of terms. Carol revelled in the humiliation as she pulled out the crab-alien’s big and bizarrely shaped penis. She had never expected to enjoy being a space-whore so much. She wasn’t sure how she would be able to go back to being Captain Marvel, virtuous superheroine, after spending so long as an interspecies prostitute. 

The crab-creature’s cock flexed as it erupted out of the harness, slapping Captain Marvel across the face. The powerhouse’s pussy dripped moisture onto the spacestation’s deck as she tried to grip the prehensile penis, imagining what it would feel like moving inside her. Lustily she ran her hands up and down the alien bitchtamer, probing and teasing it with her fingers to find its most sensitive spots. Eighteen inches long, the lower third had a rough leathery blue-black sheath, covered with hard round bumps that made her quiver as she ran her fingers across them. From that sheath emerged a bright blue-and-purple veined shaft of ribbed rubbery flesh that culminated in a head comprised of three short but thick tentacles. Less than four inches long, the animated cones of cockmeat were each as thick as her wrist where they joined the thigh-thick column. 

Captain Marvel stroked the crab-creature’s marvellous length, snaking her nimble fingers through the bumps and grooves in a manner that her client clearly found enjoyable. She smiled up at the hideous alien before ducking beneath its four-legged body so that she could reach all the way past the base of its cock to tickle the bloated cum-sacs that it possessed in place of testicles. 

Her face rubbed along the side of the thick hot cock, and her nostrils filled with the unfamiliar but intoxicating scent of its arousal. Sweet slime coated the fantastic phallus, and Captain Marvel stuck out her tongue to taste it. Delicious. She licked up along the underside of the crab-centaur’s cock, lapping the lubricating juice from its fleshy ridges, then swirled her tongue around the three mobile tips, taking each one into her mouth in turn. 

The big multi-limbed crustacean grabbed at the crates as she sucked on its fuck-flanges, its knees weakening under the unfamiliar pleasure. Females of its own species did not possess the proper mouthparts to provide this sort of stimulation, and their clawed hands lacked this whore’s delicate touch. All in all, the costly encounter was off to an excellent start!

After giving his big blue rod a good wet tongue bath, Carol opened her mouth as far as she could to suck in all three tentacle-tips. It was a severe strain, but she managed to engulf the whole head and force her tongue up in between the individual drooling cockheads. As she sucked, licked, and probed at the alien’s cock, her hands redoubled their efforts, giving the crab-creature a handjob to go with the blowjob. 

Six months of whoring herself out to every alien across three galaxies had made Captain Marvel an extremely talented and motivated cock-sucker, able to quickly find the pleasure points and apply the maximum stimulation to provoke her customers to their orgasmic peak. The iridescent crab-creature was no exception. Carol felt his sperm sacs quiver and swell, giving her a few seconds of warning before the alien’s spunk shot up through its huge cock to inundate her mouth. 

Captain Marvel swallowed as fast as she could, huge audible gulps of the thick and creamy alien cumload, but she could not swallow it all and great gobs of it squirted back out through her lips to rain down on her tits and dribble down her naked tattooed body to tease her pussy with gloopy goodness.

She continued licking and sucking her monstrous client’s huge cock as its armoured body shuddered through the last few spurts of its erotic eruption. She sucked on each of the three tentacle-tips like a teat, drinking sperm from the source while the other two tips drenched her face and hair with their own pulsing jets. She hummed happily as her head was dowsed in alien sperm. When it was done and there was nothing left to suck out of the crab-creature’s man-meat, Carol scooped the cum from her chin and breasts and poured it into her mouth with the giant smile of the greedy cum-whore that she was.

The alien’s sperm was delicious to her, slightly more briny than average, but with an underlying sweetness and an added spice of inhuman hormones. She could drink it all day long. Literally. Her cosmic constitution could digest sperm as fast as she could guzzle it down. A fact that she had discovered first hand when she’d spent almost a week as the only whore on a freight hauler crewed by nearly fifty sex-crazed Krofan’s, elephant-sized aliens whose ejaculation could be measured by the gallon! She’d certainly had to work hard for her money on that flight!

* * *

Captain Marvel let out a low moan as the crustacean’s huge cock pressed between her hairless blue-hued pussylips and pushed into her true inner pinkness. She was on her hands and knees, in the middle of a spacestation hangar, whoring herself out to an utterly inhuman alien, and she loved it. 

Between johns, Carol liked to imagine that when she got back to Earth her life would return to normal and she could forget everything that she’d had to do to return home, but when she was working, when she was horny, she liked to imagine what would happen if everybody on Earth could see what she was doing right now. 

All of her friends, her fellow Avengers, her fans, her enemies, all of them seeing her as she was right now, on her knees, her face and tits dripping with spunk, with a monstrous creature thrusting its gigantic inhuman penis up into her pussy. They were sure to notice how easily she stretched to accommodate its immense size, proof that she had fucked many, many such huge cocks before. What would happen if they could see what a whore she was? Her heroing life would be over. Nobody would ever be able to look at Captain Marvel without remembering her as the monster-fucking whore she was right now. Earth’s Mightiest Whore.

The blonde Avenger’s hot pussy gushed with excited juices as her fantasies helped lubricate the giant cock’s passage into her tightly gripping love canal. The crab-creature pushed its cock into her slowly, and then the stubby tentacles that made up its triple-tipped cockhead flared out inside her cunt. Captain Marvel squealed with pleasure at the sensation, and her first climaxes began. 

The hooker-heroine shook and moaned, her vaginal muscles convulsing around the delightfully shaped cock as it continued its insertion. The ridged shaft made Carol gasp with delight as the grooves passed through her gripping pussylips, and then the rough studded sheath near the base had her swiftly climbing back towards a second orgasm. 

Captain Marvel came so easily to alien cocks that she often felt that she ought to be paying them! But as much pleasure as the alien’s cock was giving to her, her cunt was more than returning the favour as her vaginal muscles rippled and convulsed around the extra-terrestrial erection, squeezing so much more tightly than any female that had evolved naturally to fit cocks this big. Her superhuman strength and endurance allowed her body to take impossibly large cocks, but it was the revelation that she was at least as much of a size queen as Jennifer, Sue, or Janet that made her orgasm so easily. And quite aside from the physical stimulation that her climax provided to her customers, the fact that this exotic whore was clearly and genuinely climaxing on their cocks was flattering to their male egos. That left them feeling good about themselves above and beyond the sexual satisfaction, and as a result she always earned good tips.

Carol was breathing hard, moans escaping her from her cum-drooling lips more frequently as the big crustacean picked up the pace. The alien’s exoskeletal plates rattled as its four legs settled into a rocking rhythm, mercilessly powerfucking Captain Marvel’s indestructible pussy with increasing speed and force, testing the limits of her endurance. 

The crab-creature’s sexual onslaught drove Carol to a series of cresting orgasms, her unnatural lust for inhuman cock an unquenchable flame of burning passion that was only stoked to greater heights by the rough fucking! 

A couple of dock workers stopped to watch through the gaps in the crates around the iridescent creature fucking the human whore. Captain Marvel smiled with the joy of humiliation, and slammed her ass back harder. The armoured alien responded by grabbing her head in one of its claws and pushing her face down onto the grimy spacedock deck. Carol loved the rough treatment. She was again in a constant state of orgasm and thought that she might explode from all the pleasure she was receiving.

Face down on the deck, the muscular blonde drooled mindlessly as the alien pounded her pussy. It fucked her remorselessly for more than ten minutes, making her climax another 4 times before a second orgasm overwhelmed the alien. The crab-centaur’s mandibles flared as it raised its head, emitting a skittering hiss from its hideous face as its monstrous cock convulsed rapidly inside Captain Marvel’s quivering quim. 

The happy whore wept with joy as she felt a series of sharp stings hit the roof of her womb, as the alien’s powerful ejaculation filled her baby chamber with inhuman seed. Captain Marvel’s belly inflated as more and more of the alien’s colossal cumload pumped into the much smaller human woman insufficient cum-containing cavity. Carol pressed her hand against her swelling abdomen, feeling her rippling muscles get smoothed out by the internal pressure, and she kept her pussy clamped tight to hold the vast flood of sperm inside her for as long as she could. 

It had to end eventually, but Carol looked like a woman nine-months pregnant by the time she finally crunched her abs to expel her customer’s voluminous sperm. The hot creamy cum squirted out through her violated cervix and then back along the massive length, between the monstrous maleness impaling her and the sensitive vaginal membranes of her stretched-out cunt. 

To Carol, the sensation was indescribably delightful! Thick cum splurted disgustingly from between her painted pussylips and splashed down onto the spaceport deck between her trembling legs. 

When her enjoyable gyrations finally subsided, the big crab-creature slowly pulled out of the star-lost super-slut. It chattered gleefully as it felt her fuckhole sucking at its mighty shaft, as though trying to keep every inch of its enormous erection. Then the triple-tipped cock-head pulled out of her and Carol groaned and shuddered. 

The two dockworkers had been joined by a three more diverse aliens, and they gave her a little cheer as she rolled over onto her back, her vacated cunt gushing cum and pussy-juice. Glistening with the same creamy cocktail, above her the crab-centaur’s cock slowly wilted and retracted into its body and her collar chimed to inform the well-fucked prostitute that she had completed her contracted sex acts and that payment had been successfully processed. 

In the moment, Captain Marvel didn’t care about the money she had just earned. She was still focused on all the sperm she had acquired instead. It was hers now, she’d earned it. She reached down with her hand to catch the combined love juices, twelve parts sperm to about one part girl-cum, that were gushing out of her gaping vagina. The humiliated heroine sucked up the sperm from her cupped palm and then scooped up more, drinking handful after handful of the delicious ambrosia for several minutes during which the flood dwindled first to a trickle and then to just the occasional drip. Carol pushed her hand deep inside to scrape out as much as she could reach before licking her fingers clean.

For a few seconds she looked down at the large puddle of sperm on the dock floor, oozing into the gutter that would carry it away with the grime and dirt and fuel and lubricant that commonly spilled in the hangar area. Captain Marvel licked her lips, but she wasn’t quite so far gone in her own depravity as to lap sperm up out of the gutter. 

* * *

“We understand that you are looking for passage across the core, yes?”

The horned, purple-skinned figures before her were the most humanoid that she had seen since she’d arrived here. They were over eight feet tall and muscularly feminine in appearance, although that was no sure guide. Especially with the rather lengthy cocks hanging down between their digitigrade legs. Their human looking torsos sported large breasts and hourglass waists, each with four arms and two legs positioned on a humanoid pattern. The faces were only vaguely humanoid, with recognisable features of eyes, nose, and mouth, but the shape of the skulls combined with their scaly skin and the horns on their head and cheekbones made them look like half-dragons. An impression that was not lessened by their thick tails and the purple-grey scaly skin that grew smoother and paler across their breasts and bellies, but thicker and spikier across the backs and limbs. Their four hands were large, four-fingered talons and their two feet huge claws, 

Both of them sported impressively long phalluses, but there were some distinct difference in the shape, and most notably one lacked the large scaly testicles that the other possessed.

“My broodmate and I are travelling to Mo’Kartahreb,” She held up a holo displaying a map of the galaxy – a barred spiral – with the location of the station and the destination on the far side marked. 

“The journey will take 7 Ahrens,” 16 days, Carol calculated, “And we would wish to know if you would be willing to serve as our incubator?”

“Incubator?”

“Yes. We have no third, so we would like to hire your womb for the period of the journey so that you may carry and bear our offspring. We have already confirmed your physical compatibility, and we are assured that you will find the process of implantation most agreeable.”

“Implantation?”

“Yes. My mate would breed you first, implanting her eggs,” The speaking alien gestured to her partner’s large phallus, which was presumably more accurately described as an ovipositor. “And then I would breed you to fertilise the eggs.” Her big cock started to stiffen with excitement. 

Carol knew that she really ought to ask more questions before she agreed, but right now she just really wanted to fuck these two gorgeous dragon-women. And being impregnated by them could not be any more fucked up than her last pregnancy . . . 

“How many offspring?”

The two dragon-women looked at one another before answering. The true-female spoke for the first time. “A usual litter would be two or three offspring per birthing, with a gestation period of a half-Ahren, so perhaps thirty to forty offspring.”

Carol gasped as her pussy convulsed so hard that she gave herself an orgasm.

* * *

END