A/N: As always, 18+.

I'm not sure how well I brought this off. Ah well.

I love the idea of a woman having to contend with Dom!Tom AND Dom!Loki. It wouldn't be easy, but I imagine you'd be damned satisfied! :)

"Higher." He tapped the body part in question and she was very glad that it wasn't with the flat of his vey large hand, which would have been much more of a spank. "I want that beautiful, bare bottom of yours well off your heels, my angel."

Damn him! He knew what being in this position - what presenting herself to him in the extremely sexual sense of the word - did to her - how it made that particular area, the one of preeminent interest to him - ache and throb and make itself known to the rest of her even much more so than usual.

Of course he knew! He had made it his avocation to learn everything he could about her, and he used it ruthlessly, to his - and occasionally her - best advantage.

She was on the very edge of the end of their big bed, where he had placed her, the right side of her face pressed into the mattress, honey blonde waves flowing out behind her head like a banner. Arms folded - although not bound - across her back, she was kneeling - as he definitely preferred for her - and everyone else - with the behind in question raised obscenely high as if offering itself to him. Her ankles were kept well apart - again with no outside assistance, so that she was responsible for maintaining her own obedient position and could not depend on restraints to help her comply - so that not an atom of her delicacies were hidden from him, absolutely nothing about that very intimate place on her body was left guarded or protected in any way from the eyes and tongue, the hands and very not inconsiderable cock of the lustful, greedy entity that washimself.

Prince Loki of Asgard, who she knew without being able to actually see him was standing behind her, staring intently at her no longer very secret charms in a lewd and lascivious manner that was designed to make her blush - and it was succeeding admirably.

He found the concept of her embarrassment - something Asgardians didn't subscribe to, at least not in relation to sex - to be both intriguing and delightful, and regardless of how long they'd been together - not that it had been very long, really - it never failed to bring some sort of a smile to what could be cruel lips when he could watch that telltale flush stain her perfect skin - especially when it was his doing that put it there.

"How long has it been since we've allowed you your woman's pleasure, Mercy?"

The response, "Too fucking long," went through her mind, but not out her mouth, thank the Gods. And the bastard knew that, by the mere dint of his asking, that her arousal would flare enormously.

He sank to his knees behind her; she could feel his hot breath on flesh that had been maintained a hairs breadth below peak for a terribly long time - throbbing and swelling and yearning terribly - and that alone was nearly enough to make her cum, which - despite how wonderful it would feel temporarily - would, in reality, be a terrible thing that would get her into vats of trouble, and not just with the enormous Norse god whose was quite literally burying his nose in her quim, tongue licking out occasionally but purposely never catching anywhere particularly good.

He did all of this deliberately, to distract her, and it always, always worked. She was so helplessly responsive to him - to the both of them - that she was more than frequently caught doing something she oughtn't or, as in this case, not doing something she should, such as answer him as soon after he'd asked the question as was humanly possible for her to do.

And neither of them had a merciful bone in their body when it came to her. They were both of the firm belief that to go easy on her - in any way - would be an entirely unacceptable disservice to the woman they loved and adored, and neither of them could countenance that idea.

Which was why - unless she was sick or injured - and with the other one in charge of her nutrition and exercise, both of those things were rarities - her behind was almost never notsporting some sort of reminder of a session with either of them, or Heaven forbid, both of them.. Sometimes it was the unmistakable big, angry red prints of two separately owned hands that were nonetheless identical in size and hardwood consistency, sometimes it was the large, squarish decorations of the beautiful solid oak hairbrush with the four inch square head that they had given her for her birthday - the only hairbrush she was allowed to own, which was used with equal vigor to brush her hair but was kept always available to either of them in her compartments of their shared headboard to be used even more frequently on her other end. Some of the other marks that could often be found on that generous flesh were livid tracks from her cane, or the two inch wide welts left by the various straps and belts that hung in plain sight on an ornate gold hook that Loki had procured and that had been situated above their bed like multiple swords of Damocles over her head - well, not quite her head, really - while she slept.

And it wasn't as if their hands weren't bad enough - as proven in that moment by Loki, who rose from his deceptively submissive position to remind her of that fact, making her entire body start from the stark pain of even just the first smack, especially applied, as it was, to a backside that had already been most thoroughly seen to earlier that morning, when she'd had the distinct misfortune of allowing herself to become disrespectfully mouthy to their roommate, who had made himself late - late! - in order to see to her as fully as he deemed was necessary.

"Twenty-one days, my Lord," she supplied quickly, knowing it wouldn't halt her spanking but hoping against hope that it might shorten it a bit. She knew better than to hope that, even though her long enforced dry spell was supposed to be over today, he would eventually allow her to climax.

Tonight, perhaps, with the two of them. As long as she behaved herself today, which was always a dicey proposition at best.

Loki was a very deliberate, calculated spanker - he wanted his every effort to count as much as possible - and they did. He adopted a measured, metered rhythm that quickly became absolutely devastating, especially considering that the size of his hand meant that the swats were always going to begin overlapping almost immediately and it went downhill for her from there, quickly becoming very hard for her to keep her arms folded - as he required - behind her back when all she wanted to do was to reach a hand down to protect herself from the swats where he was concentrating on her sweet spot, that area where butt melded into thigh - and he had to have been taught that - in some ways their roommate was a God awful motherfucker -she would feel it the most when she sat down for the rest of the day.

But she'd done that before, too, and, as enticing as the idea sounded to her mind, she knew he would make sure she thoroughly regretted her decision to disobey one of her cardinal rules about not interfering in any way with a punishment.

She was well beyond sobbing before he stopped, not that he had ever or would ever allow her tears to sway him in any way. And when he returned to his former position and indulged himself in the taste and scent of her, his mouth latching onto that pebble of hers - swollen and straining as it was, despite her chastisement, or in part, rather, because of it - to lick it ever so slowly with the full, broad length of his tongue, he realized her body was weeping for him, too.

"Mmmmm - ahhhhhh . . . sssssssssssss," Mercy's breath sizzled in through tightly clenched teeth as he set his tongue to torturing her, hands reaching out to squeeze and pinch her behind, making her try to jerk away from them but knowing better than to actually break position - no matter what he did to her - or, Loki forbid, she should cum without his permission.

Without both of their permissions, come to think about it, since they had both decided - when she'd gotten it into her head to defy the two of them at once and dodge a doctor's appointment she really didn't want to go to for her ever worsening reflux that she knew was going to end up in an uncomfortable procedure.

Of course, they had both accompanied her to the doctor's office for her quickly rescheduled appointment - where she had been required to apologize to both the receptionist and then the doctor herself for missing her original appointment. The poor woman - the doc - had barely been able to function with Loki glowering down at her, especially since Mercy had been right that it was an unpleasant, uncomfortable procedure and her every whimper had just made Loki's expression darken even more threateningly until her other lover had sent him to sit in the waiting room and scowl at people out there while he held Mercy's hand and spoke to her quietly to help her relax.

Not only that, but they had punished her every night for a week for her transgression before putting her to bed - which was an experience she quickly came to cherish despite how much her butt hurt because of its rarity - besides deciding that she wasn't to be pleasured for another fortnight past that. Which, of course, didn't mean that they hadn't availed themselves of her whenever the mood struck either of them - or both at the same time. And it definitely didn't mean that she hadn't become immediately sexually frustrated at their hands - all four of them at once, sometimes - on her body. They both loved to hear her groan and squeal, both adored any sign she gave them of her arousal and indeed they each became even rock harder with every stuttered breath, every high pitched whimper.

And despite the fact that each of them was completely spent within her, neither would grant her the release she had begun to beg for after only the first few nights, which, of course, lead to Loki making it a rule that she wasn't even allowed to ask either of them to bring her to fulfillment, saying in that deep, dark voice of his, "Naughty little girls should know better than to beg for something they know are not allowed to have."

Of course their partner had been in total agreement, mentioning that he found her behavior borderline bratty, which was a pet peeve of his.

Sometimes it felt as if they were always in cahoots against her, although she knew that was never the case, that each of them only ever wanted what was best for her. That was what had brought their little distinctly unholy trinity together in the first place.

When he could tell that she was dangerously close to completion, Loki rose and positioned himself directly behind her, inserting his long legs between those small feet, his intimidating presence forcing them wider still, so close to her that the intimate heart of her would feel his movements as he rearranged his uniform only enough for his more than fully engorged cock to be loosed, its broad, almost purple head immediately nestling between those lush, puffy lips.

Mercy tried to mentally prepare herself for his imminent invasion, but there wasn't really anything she could do beyond simply surrendering herself.

To him. To the absolutely, undeniable, inevitability of him.

When they'd first met, he'd been so bold as to tell her - seconds after they were introduced - that she was his, and that he intended she would be full of him more often than not, going into truly disturbing detail of what he intended to do to her.

She had - as close to literally as she could manage - run the other way, although there had been a part of her, deep inside- a large part than she wouldn't admit to having for a very long time - that hoped he did come after her, who couldn't believe that someone like him would be interested in her in the least, much less enough to get downright pornographic in front of witnesses.

Mercy couldn't help but feel a little flattered. Scared out of her mind, but flattered nonetheless.

He hadn't followed his instincts just then and followed after her, as if recognizing that he'd gone too far for Midgardian propriety.

But he was merely allowing his intimate, ultimate possession of her to be delayed just a bit.

And she had been amazed and frankly impressed when the first thing he'd done when she'd seen him the next time was - well, in reality, to neatly back her into a corner so that she couldn't escape him - but also to sincerely apologize to her for being so crass, and then had proven himself over the course of the evening to be one of the most charming companions she had ever known - smart, funny, sometimes even self-deprecating, with a razor wit that had her belly laughing at his dead on assessment of people he didn't even know.

And in bed, when she finally allowed him to maneuver her there, she could barely keep up with him - he always left her dead asleep, holding her in his arms after he had had his wicked way with her for the few minutes it took for her to fall practically into a coma in them.

Loki could feel the tension in her body and allowed himself a small grin as he looked down at her. If their positions had been reversed, he would have been more than a little apprehensive, too, considering the disparities in their sizes. She was almost too tiny for him, and there would always be - would always have to be because, of all the mortals on this backward, backwoods planet, she was the only one who could - and did - appeal to his better nature, to his conscience, regularly - a part of him that worried for her at some of the things he - that they - did to her, even just this, most natural act of male possessing female.

He reached down and placed a big hand over where her arms lay over her back, easily encompassing both of them, holding them - and her - down and suddenly, sharply immobile.

In the very next second, he snapped his hips forward violently and was rewarded by a choked gasp and a low, keening moan as the most intimate, delicate parts of her were rudely forced to accept his invasion. "There, there, Mercy. Is it not preferable, even in your fevered, hungry state, to be hopelessly, helplessly filled to the hilt -" and he most certainly did that, just shy of painfully - "by your God, rather than to be left achingly empty?" At the last, his actions fit his words and he drew himself out of her.

She knew he wanted an answer, but she couldn't think. However dangerous it was to just agree with him, she couldn't help herself. It was the easiest thing to do. He really, really, really hated to hear her say "no" to him in any capacity whatsoever and she didn't want to give him an excuse - not that he really needed one, though, considering the nature of their relationship - to punish her again. "Yes, my Lord."

She was the architect of her own torture, because that sent him plunging into her again, wrenching a strangled cry from her at the power with which he was capable of taking her body.

And she knew he was always holding back the true extent of it from her for fear of ever really hurting her. Her God had an enormous soft spot for her, and she was well aware of just what an unusual position that put her in.

As much as he wanted to draw out his pleasure, he was disturbed to find he couldn't - his body dictated that he stop playing with her and Loki found he - who had always had superb control over himself even when he was a callow youth - couldn't stop himself from establishing that familiar, pounding rhythm as he loosed her arms in favor of leaning further over her. Grasping them just above her elbows, he rammed himself into her, losing himself almost completely within her as he never had with any other lover he'd ever taken. He raced to an end he would rather have taken his time and savored, but fairly bellowing his triumph when he spurted himself within her regardless, feeling ripped open and torn asunder as he always did with her, even more alarmingly vulnerable to her than he usually was and unable to avoid the incessant craving for her that drove him to take her like this more often than he probably should for both their sakes.

And yet she had only ever turned to him, never away from him, the first or the tenth time, she was always warm and wet and welcoming, wrapping her arms around him sleepily when he desired her in the night and brushing his lips with her own, melting to him, lifting her hips to grant him deeper, more complete access, to render herself even that much more vulnerable to him, to his power and his penetration.

Uncomfortable with the direction his thoughts were taking, and recognizing that he and his heavy armor were crushing her into the mattress in what had to be an uncomfortable manner for her - yet she hadn't issued a peep of complaint - he rolled the both of them so that she was cuddled against his side. He - the God who needed even less sleep than most others of his kind - found he could barely keep his eyes open, but he stayed awake long enough to chide her softly.

"You should not let me lie on you like that, my angel. I am too heavy, especially in armor."

He could hear the smile - and slight pout - in her voice as she spoke. "But, my Lord, I love the weight of you on top of me - especially when you're dressed like this."

He knew how much she adored the feel of the leather and metal components of this particular armor, which was why he wore it most often around her. "But I am crushing you; I know I am, little one."

Mercy opened her mouth to protest, but couldn't lie to him, whispering petulantly, "But I like it."

His big hand traveled down to cover her naked behind. "I should give you as spanking for not reminding me to move off you," although he was loathe to do so when she so sweetly just wanted him close to her in any fashion she could manage, even to her own detriment.

The potentially offended body part - which was still quite warm from his earlier attentions - squirmed beneath his palm. "No, my Lord, please?"

He adored her pretty struggle to submit. "I believe you have - how do you put it? Gotten lucky. You have worn your God out, my Mercy, and I believe I will rest for a while."

Loki lifted one heavy lid and caught just what he wanted to see from her - a huge smile at her accomplishment of having wrung him dry. Then he closed it again, sliding the both of them to the line of pillows at the top of the bed and availing himself of his.

She leaned down and kissed him on his cheek, whispering, "I'm going to go into the living room, then."

Loki caught a lock of hair as she turned away from him and tugged it teasingly. "Behave yourself while I'm not there to watch over you," he warned softly.

Rolling her eyes, she answered, "Yes, my Lord," only somewhat sarcastically, before closing the door behind her to allow him to rest.