"It's really quite marvelous outside isn't it dear?" I nod intently. Waiting for this dinner to be over. My father has set up a marriage for me, an arranged marriage, to none other than Thor. Don't get me wrong, he's quite handsome, and well, godly, and I would like nothing less than to be he queen of Asgard, but he's not interested nor am I.

I suppose Odin wants someone to take the throne. He's been doing that Odin sleep thing and who knows when that's going to come crumbling down. Queens make heirs to the throne, that is all. My father is all for this, I would like something more.

I stir my soup, boredom has made me unappetized. Looking up, my eyes catch the tall drapery down to the well decorated table. I realize I'm staring and I blush in apology. Mother kicks me under the table. The son to the left of Odin is quite handsome. He has this looming, mysterious stare that I can't help but feel on me. Loki, I believe he's called. His blue eyes are so electric that you would of thought he's the god of lightning. I hear what they say about him though. He's no good.

We exchange a few blinks and I find myself over come with intense lust and a headache to match. I grip my head attempting to find the source of this god awful pain. Looking back, his grin seems to be growing from ear to ear. My mother stomps on my foot under the table. "What are you doing?" she spits between her teeth. No one is paying attention, partly engaged in their own lackluster conversation. "I feel ill." "Is this some kind of joke!" she yells a little louder than intended, attracting a few pairs of eyes. "No, nothing funny mother. I'm sorry, excuse me."

I excuse myself from the table, feeling horribly rude and slightly Ill. Odin nods at one of the guards "Show her to quarters." "Allow me." Loki springs up at the wing of the table and comes to my side pointing me in the right direction. He is rather tall, compared to me at least. The first son of Odin looks up from his empty dish, growling at Loki and his bad intentions, studying me, and bidding me an ingenuine goodnight.

I find myself even more flustered as I follow him down the long hallways. I have to stop for a moment, as it gets quieter the pain seems to intensify. It seems everything in this place is overly decorated, too large. He opens a door for me. "There you are. Will that be all then?" there's a mischievous tone in his voice. "Yes, thank you." "Goodnight"

I find a bathroom in this labyrinth and allow myself to shower until all of my bad thoughts are stored away. That's what gets me in trouble. I stare at myself in the mirror, brushing some of the long curls out of my vision and staring at my pale frame. I can't stop myself from thinking of him. Bad things. I find my way back into bed without bothering to look for any clothes. Falling fitfully into sleep.

I wake up slightly alarmed at my state of unclothed-ness. I stretch and rise from the smooth sheets, feeling a burning in my belly that's not from hunger. I search for some kind of undergarment in my trunk but find nothing. I shiver, crawling back into the bed, desperate to cover up, I feel this filth, creeping up my spine. I roll over and feel something wet.

I jump out of the bed and remove the covers to find a giant wet stain. Oh boy. I need to get out of this room. It's consuming me, thoughts of him, thoughts no girl should think. I dump the trunk, searching again for something to wear, finding nothing. I pick up a hairbrush and throw it in frustration. I see a shadow in the doorway to the restroom. I assure myself it's just my imagination. The shadow grows fuller, and I see two…horns?

I'm too shocked to react or be a lady and cover myself up. He, making himself still hidden, stops, I feel that stare and my belly tingles. This is a dream. There's no way he could of gotten in here? "Looking for these?" he steps out of his shadow, dropping my panties in front of him.

I frantically cover myself up. "What are you doing!" I yell, as if he was miles away. "I mean, you, you…you're here and I, how?…your brother and I… uhm, GO!" he laughs, strolling towards me in his decorative attire, must be a matching set with the castle. I wonder how hard it is to take that off. Stop. Common sense. Reasoning, relax, think. He looks so handsome and STOP! "You really mustn't talk so much, it doesn't help your case." he puts his hand on my cheek and I shiver.

"I can see, you know, what you dreamt about, what you were thinking about at dinner last night." I pull my bra on, shaking. I walk over and pull on my panties shyly. "Please leave Loki. I would love to be in your company some other time while I'm clothed." "Stop fighting it." he smiles, pulling back the covers. "That marriage children thing isn't for you is it? Too boring. You like exciting. I saw that last night, I have to say, for someone so small and polite you sure are…imaginative." I want him so bad, something is pulling me to him like a magnet. Something about that green and gold suit and his wondrous face, his dark curls. This is some kind of mind game. I button up my pants and pull on a light shirt, looking to make a quick exit to the company of others.

"I could, give you exciting." he blocks the door. His breath is cool and he towers over me. "I could give you what you want." I'm melting. I won't be tricked. "I could give you all of that, and more, more pleasure then you ever imagined." he tucks a stray curl behind my ear. Pinning me between him and the door. I feel dizzy, almost like a dream. The room spins but he remains, taunting me. "Isn't that what you want?" he presses his lips to my neck.

I nod. He moves back to study me, with that gaze, and menacing grin to match. I don't want to have sex with him. I want to submit to his every command, I want him to touch me in the most sinister places and whisper filthy things to me. I reach to unbutton my pants. "No need for that." he laughs, inviting me to climb into the bed. I find myself unable to blink as he strips down to a thin pair of boxers, removing the heavy trousers with his long fingers.

He touches in-between my legs and I'm ashamed that I've already soaked through my pants. He chuckles, sliding them off and kissing my neck, painfully slow and shy. "Patience." he whispers. Oh yeah, the mind reading. I exhale, shaking, and inhale his perfumed scent. I put my hands on his back and he's oddly cold.

He pulls me onto his lap, tilting my head to the side to expose my neck. He reaches under my shirt and unclips my bra, with my shirt still intact. He cups my breast with one hand and tends to my panties with his other. Bunching up the fabric so it's pulled tight between my lips and running his finger up and down it's length. He begins to kiss my neck, all three growing into a phenomenal rhythm. This has to be going somewhere. I moan, and he smiles, satisfied. His fingers creep up my waist and back under my panties. They're freezing on my bare flesh. I shiver and he backs up.

"Lo…L, Loki?" "Yes darling?" "Maybe we shouldn't. What if someone sees?" "That's part of the excitement!" he chuckles. "I wouldn't worry about Thor, he's too busy with Sif and that Midgard woman…Jane Foster." "I'm not sure that I-" "Hush!" he snaps and I feel suddenly frightened. His hands are still there reassuring me. He takes a breath, not wanting to frighten the prey. "Oh I see, you're a virgin." he laughs again. Is this all funny to him? "I want to, I want to give it to you." "But you're scared?" he says almost teasing me. I nod into his neck.

"Good thing you told me. What a shame it would've been to deflower you with my fingers." still chuckling. He seemed nothing like the passionate type, but he was, most definitely. "Well, I'll make this easy for you then, rookie."

Plotting, he stands before me at the foot of the bed. He has a broadness about him not in width or height, but in the way he carried himself. He was thin, but not scrawny. Not bulky, but toned. His face long and young looking, his eyes made my stomach churn. "Kneel." he snaps at the ground in-front of him. I obediently drop to the floor, onto my knees.

He smiles down at me. "Do I have to instruct you?" he asks patiently. "No." I toss my shirt aside and my bra, already loose, falls in front of me. I'm just unsure at how to begin. I wet my lips and tug at the fabric until I can see his hip bones, more, and more. I stare in amazement. I can tell he's pleased with my shock.

I kiss and suck on the tip gently taking my tongue further and further down his length. I don't know how I'm going to do this. He must think so little of me, a petty little virgin. I look up at him and he's staring straight at the wall. I pull my hair back, looking to get to business. I surprise myself at the first push, taking more than half in my mouth. Making my hands busy and taking a deep breath. My mouth is getting dry and I'm making myself anxious.

'It's quite simple really' I think to myself. I want the whole thing. Cramming another 2 inches down my throat, mentally pleading for him to help me with the other 2. I spit ungracefully and choke. Repeating the process, I'm stuck. My jaw is taut, straining, and my tongue is searching for the top of my mouth, each frantic movement choking me more. Looking up at him, he smiles at me. "You look like a sad puppy." he laughs. Biting and licking his wonderfully pink lips. I envy the smallest things, how his mouth is empty. My nose burns. He angrily tangles his fingers in my hair and slaps my cheek, pushing my skull and his hips against each other. "Errrughhh." it sounded more like a battle cry.

This continues for a while and it becomes surreal. The god of mischief is fucking my skull. I feel belittled, I'm only a hole for his pleasure. Oddly I'm okay with it. I gasp for air, coughing up a lung. He grabs my face again. "You're a good whore." I wheeze as I take inches 9 and 10. He twitches in my throat. His face contorts with pleasure. "Ohhh. Ohhh ahh." I've heard this stuff is foul to taste. He's so far down my throat I didn't think I'd get the chance until he pulls out and fills up my mouth.

I wipe a stray drop from my chin. "Now comes the fun part my dear." he pulls me onto my feet and pushes his body against me, bulldozing me onto the bed, pressed under his body weight. Practically licking my mouth, but neatly, rhythmically. His cold hands running up and down my body. He touches me and I let out a cry, he does it again, stopping, looking almost confused.

I'm desperate for his hands on me. Something. Even if it hurts. He rolls off of me and walks around the bed, strolling, he might as well smell the flowers while he's at it, get a cup of coffee. His smile lets me know he knows he's torturing me. "Wha…what are you doing?" "Certainly don't be scared!" he laughs. Kneeling at the end of the bed, putting my legs over his shoulders. "I figured I could…return the favor."

He nibbles at my thighs. My head is spinning. I can't keep my eyes open. My god. He licks at my slit, I buck up and he pushes firmly on my hips, walking his other hand up to my mouth. "Please. Please…no more." I scream. I can't even feel what he's doing all I know is that it feels wonderful. I cum and he covers my mouth, masking my screams of pleasure.

It just seems to be the catalyst of many more as he sucks my juices, replacing them with his long tongue. I grab his hair in a similar fashion and beg for mercy. He sends me over the edge for the umpteenth time and my knees quiver and knock against his helmet. "Oh my." "Have you had enough then?" his lips form that devilish smile.

I find myself a bit sleepy. My body stretched to it's limits. "On your hands and knees." he kindly instructs me, pulling my hair out of my face and stroking my back. I'm getting a vibe from him that this is going to hurt. "Relax." he says sternly, a sharpness to his voice, not particularly relaxing.

He takes his position behind me and I see him thinking about how to best approach this in the mirror. I laugh at him. "Do you really think it wise to laugh at me?" he says playfully. "I do what I want." I tease him. He nudges my legs apart with the back of his hand. "No, not like this." he lays me down on my back. "I'd like to see your face…sadistic, I know." he smiles, the first real un-mysterious smile.

Pulling my legs up towards my chest he takes his marks. "Do you trust me?" "Trusting the god of mischief? Not the best investment." "I'm saying, are you ready to do this?" "How kind of you to ask. Yes, Loki, I would like you to do this." "Okay." he plants a kiss on my forehead, quite out of character. He takes a mighty thrust backwards.

I'm not quite sure what I was expecting but it was a lot less painful than this. He tears me apart, it comes to a screeching halt for a moment and I feel as if I have been ripped in half. I'm tearing. I let out a soul ripping scream. Lost, drowning, searching for air. I can't feel my hands to check if I'm still there. 'It's done' I think. That wasn't the half of it.

"That's the worst of it. I promise. I got it over with." The words are caring but they come out cold. I nod. He realigns slowly, now taking everything slow. Going in for another stroke. I shut my legs. "That's going to hurt worse." he is a true sadist, caught between caring for me and the satisfaction he gets from watching me suffer. I see it conflicting inside of him.

I let him do what he wants. Searching for a self-destruct button internally. "It's supposed to feel good to you too you know?" I'm indifferent. All of it is going to be painful. "Here." I feel little relief as he rolls over. "What?" he laughs. "It stings." I moan. He kisses me on the lips and runs his hands up and down my sides, pulling me on top of him. I'm hesitant to move. "This'll be easier, see?" I kneel over him, taking his hands for support.

I roll my hips slightly. I can tell he's growing impatient. I relax my muscles a little and go for the prize. I'm only able to take a little more than half when I'm literally sitting on him. I keep trying to do this until it feels 'good' like he said it should. I can feel him getting stiffer inside me, his tip now poking at my cervix. He's trying to detect any hint of pleasure or enjoyment.

He takes control a bit and when I'm all the way down he brings his hips up awkwardly, jamming himself inside of me. This is starting to feel phenomenal. Awkwardly phenomenal. He's so deep inside me. I whisper his name, he responds with a smile and begins to work at his hips back and forth in conjunction with mine. His hands begun to give out with his body focused on other things. I reach for the next thing I can grab, the helmet.

At this point I'm doing nothing, but being consumed with pleasure. More than I ever imagined. He grows tired of this position and flips me back over. I try to reach for his back with my hands, clawing in ecstasy. He pins them above my head, letting out a rather primitive sounding growl. Consumed with animal lust.

He unmercifully slams into my body. I whimper. He nods as if to tell me I'm his bitch now. "I'm gonna… cu-" he pulls out. Pulling me by the hair on to my hands and knees, somehow getting even deeper. I swear if I would've looked down I would've saw his cock poking from the inside of my stomach. He takes a firm grip on my hair, wrapping it in his fingers, pulling me back towards him until I'm off my hands.

"You best not cum until I tell you, are we clear?" he talks into my neck. "Are we clear?" he snarls. "Uh- ahhh…Yes sir." I whisper. "Good girl." He sinks his teeth into my neck. His hands explore my neck and my stomach, my ass, back up over my shoulders and onto my breasts. He shifts his weight slightly, squaring up with me again. He hits a spot inside of me that makes my knees give out.

I scream as he slams into it again and again, going out of his way to hit it on the way in and out. "Oh, ohhhh fuck." "We had a deal." his hand slides up to my neck, choking me. Constricting more with each scream. I make a dry gasp for air and there is none. He smiles maliciously, backing all the way out and going for one more grand shove.

I'm in trouble now. He knew I was going to, he did it on purpose. He roughly pushes me on the bed and towers over me. "I don't like liars." his rage isn't genuine but he's waiting for me to pay. His gentle grasp turns into means of restraint. "On the ground." he demands. I sit on the ground. "Lay on the ground." he growls harshly, as if I should've known better.

The floor is cold and hard, as most floors are, but my ribs rub against it and it hurts horribly. I lay there for a while, frightened, as he steps on me. Re-clothed, with intent to kill. He crushes my pulsating head and I could almost feel the pattern of the tread of his heavy boots in my skull. I cry out in horror as one breaks under his weight, a rib, followed by one or two others.

He leaves, his presence is missing. I feel his footsteps approaching and stopping just short of me. He wedges his toes under my ribs. He pours ice on me and watches as it drips down my freezing back. Leaving frozen trails and pooling at the small of my back. I feel the tip of his finger touch my back and it seems that all that had once melted now froze over, only to begin melting again dripping down my ribs and mixing in with my salty tears. I scream as it burns the hell out of my cheeks. I struggle to breathe. I picture his smug grin. "Clean my cock." he orders, like he himself was the king of Asgard. He is up there and I am down here. I give him a questioning look. "You may get up."

I begin to repeat the motions. "I said clean it, not suck on it, dirty slut." I'm a bit unsure of what he speaks of. Now, he seems taller. On my knees I have to strain to reach him. I look up at him again, not daring to speak. "Lick it, you mewling quim." My teeth are clattering and I can't hold my mouth open.

I have a headache and my head is screaming. He slaps me again as I do what he demands. "All of it." he whispers, looking down on me. This is what he wanted all along. This is him showing his true colors. I take myself out of my head, not wanting to gag. "This is what bad girls get. Do you look to disappoint me?" I shake my head. He studies my work. "I suppose you've done well." he backs away from me.

"What can I do to make sure that we won't have this problem again?" I shiver, freezing. My shaking fingers hugging my body. I feel him wracking my brain. I plug my ears, trying to stop the burning, squeezing my head between my knees, my ribs sending out waves of pain. "Ah ah ah, look at me." he warns. I know better than to disobey. "Please. I'll do whatever you desire, please!" I cry out to deaf ears. "We aren't here for me." he laughs.

"I know your greatest fears." he circles me. "I know how to break you. How to make you plead for mercy. Even though I'm sure you know you'll get none. I could torture you so horribly, we'd never see that beautiful smile again." he puts his hand on my face and I let out a terrified cry. His cool palms relieving the burns on my cheeks. "Now, can you promise me. Promise, that I won't have to? That you'll listen to me?" he kneels down on one knee until we're almost nose to nose. "Yes."

His finger scrapes my insides. "Shall we try this again?" "Yes please." I back up onto the mattress slowly. He is naked again. He pulls me to him by the hair. "You know. What I expect." he shoves me onto the bed roughly. This seems to be dragging on. His ice cold hands running up and down my body, his thumbs gently poking at my loose ribs. I let out a squeak in addition to the tears running down my face.

He himself seems to be a bit flustered. He puts my legs around his waist and begins to fuck me dry again. He can't get any farther. "Oh dear, have I turned you off?" he giggles, still continuing to sand my insides. It quickly becomes lubricated and he's able to pick up the pace. Getting more pleasure from watching me, unable to writhe or turn with out letting out a sob, then the act itself. He denies me any comfort of a hand to hold, not once breaking eye contact.

I can feel the wetness dripping down my ass. "You like that don't you? For a virgin you sure take it like a whore." I do like it. I love it. I crave more, despite the pain it's causing me. He hits that spot again and I don't flinch. He's smarter than that though and begins to thrust at an impossible pace. I reach out and touch his chest, laying my hand flat and using it as resistance to roll my hips, his leg bones digging into my ass. I cry, if you wouldn't of known better you'd think I was dying. "Ohh yeah baby. Oh yes! Fuck me." he thinks little of what I mutter.

His fingers crawl around my throat again. "Are you ready?" he raises his eyebrows. I nod. I feel my airway closing. My body's natural reaction is to gasp and squirm under his strong hands. I feel lightheaded. "Good girl." he pets my head, moving into a slow rhythm making me feel everything that he's doing. My exhausted muscles clamp around him.

I must be turning purple because it's difficult to keep my eyes open, much less control my reactions. I look up at him, worried he just might kill me. Wouldn't that be something? He smiles. "Wait…Wait just a moment." he stops suddenly, his beautiful icy eyes on mine and his perfect pale skin against my own. "Go." he mouths, releasing his hands and giving a painful whack into me.

My legs hyperextend and the tips of my fingers go numb. My brain cries out. I can't make noise. My mouth just opens and nothing comes out. My lungs expand and my ribs crunch back in response. My eyes roll back in my head. What a sin to feel this much pleasure. It feels like I'm lost for hours. His seed pouring out inside of me, streaming down into my womb, filling me up. I feel it oozing over capacity, warm in between my legs. The sound of it dripping on the floor echoing in my ears. Is there supposed to be this much? He lays on the pillows above me. Staring at his good work, waiting for my episode to be over.

I lay there, breathless, for another eternity. I expect him to get up and leave, but he stays. He smirks at me as I lift my legs onto the bed in a sticky mess. He gets up and comes back with a wet towel. I wipe it away and toss the towel aside, painfully crawling towards him. To my surprise he opens his arms. "Are you sure…?" he nods. I lay on his chest and he pulls the heavy blankets over us. He plays with my hair. "I was horrible." I laugh. "No, it was actually quite stunning. I swear." "You're the god of lies too?" he chuckles, kissing the top of my head.

"You don't strike me as this type." "And, what, may I ask, is 'this type'?" "The sweet, caring, cuddly, type." "It's the least I could do, I suppose. I did almost kill you, multiple times." he says proudly. "Did you know your brain can actually explode like that?" "Out of your skull!" "No, more of a brain smoothie." "Ow."

"Yeah. I would offer you some ice, but I figure it's not what you need." "No, thank you." "I'll see to getting someone to stitch you up." I shake my head frantically. "Relax! I'll make up some foolish excuse." He hugs me possessively. "No, but you can't leave yet." he sighs at my need for him. I can tell it is new to him, to hug, and kiss, and be needed. It makes my heart ache that this beautiful creature has never been loved.

"Beautiful?" he snorts. "I'm a monster!" he moves suddenly and my weight shifts onto my ribs. I gasp. "Must you do that! Must you read my every thought! I can't read your thoughts." He gives me an apologetic glance and helps me lay on my back, tucking me into the covers like a mother and child. "I'll give you a hint then." he adjusts the pillows under him and I, taking one and putting it under my ribcage. "Yes?" "It has something to do with how you're the most beautiful woman I've ever seen." I think nothing of it. But I still blush and curl up against him in the covers. He lays there awkwardly unsure of what to say or do. Gods don't cuddle I suppose.

I wake up to him leaving the room, making it look like nothing was ever disturbed. He catches my eyes looking at him. "Did I wake you?" he asks, not sounding the least bit apologetic. "No." "How do you feel?" he asks uninterested in my actual state of being. "Fine." "I'm the liar?" he smiles. "You best put some clothes on. It's going to be hard to tell someone you fell down the stairs naked… Will that be all then?" "Yes, thank you." we laugh.

"Really, what were you thinking?" "I was ill mother, not feeling well. I tripped." she washes my hair over the bath. "You're going to wed with broken ribs?" "MARRIED! What makes you so sure he wants to marry me, he's in love with that Midgard woman, and surely Sif will have it out for my blood. I'm pretty sure Odin has no interest in him getting married to me for Christ sakes!" "You must not talk like that! He must marry to take the throne and make an heir. Why not you?" "WHY ME! I don't want to get married, I don't want to be queen, I don't want to birth his heir. When did this even come about? If he doesn't love me and I don't love him, he has some perfectly well candidates that would love to be betrothed to him."

"Shame on you! We worked so hard to get you here, to raise you to be a lady, and now look at you!" The hairbrush clatters into the tub. "Well mother, this is never what I wanted so you're wasting your time." "Well you are attending tonight, and if the opportunity comes about, you will marry him." "It's not going to." I pout. "What did you do to your face?" "What do you mean?" "You're burned." "No?" "Yes." "I assure you, I know nothing of how this occurred." she shrugs. "I'll cover it."