2
A Toy For The Trickster
I wondered in dream land, my head filled with fractured, broken segments of the stranger. Gold glittered, green so vivid and black so dark the night was no match. In the distance I could hear his foot tapping on the floor. I shifted my body to turn and face my dream. My brow furrowed as the clink of chains lapped at my conscious mind. I turned again, twisting my wrists. The metal burned deeper through my sleepy haze and suddenly I was slammed into reality. Shackles held my wrists and ankles. I was laid on a metal bed, with nothing but a thin mattress caressing my fragile form. I thrashed my head from side to side, trying to escape, even though I knew I was trapped. I strained my neck to look down at my naked body. I was pure, untouched by any man. Not a scar marked my skin, no blemish, no bruise. Then I heard the tapping. He was there, the horned stranger in the corner of the room. I suddenly noticed the chill, watching goosebumps ripple my skin. My nipples puckered and I shivered, making my chains clink. The stranger stood, the scrape of his metal matching mine. I tried to scream, to say something but my throat was raw. He smiled at my rasping sounds of confusion.
"Do not be afraid innocent one, I will not hurt you. Yet." He stood over me, taking a step onto the bed, the metal creaking. His legs were either side of my waist and he raised one hand, and twisted his fingers in the air. I felt the moisture gather around his finger and the magician trails water droplets off of the digit into my mouth. My dry tongue welcomed the cool water and my cracked lips were soothed. I looked into my captors eyes and saw an emotion I wasn't expecting. Pity. But it only lasted for a second. Then he was back. The stranger I'd seen and the viciousness in his eyes. He spoke very little as he knelt on me. The weight of his armour made my chest constrict. He kissed me. Hard. I bucked and writhed against him, desperate to get away. But in the back of my mind I wanted...more?. He broke apart from me and laughed again. He got off me and stood by the side of the bed. He stroked down my body, his nails digging hard into my skin. Vicious red lines flushed up and I whimpered in pain. Suddenly he moved back up to my face and slapped me hard, laughing repeatedly. I cried out, tears springing to my eyes. His hands wondered down my body. I gasped, my breathing ragged as his fingers probed in-between my legs. I was dry, unprepared for a man and frustration made the blush burn into my skin. Within seconds his fingers wormed inside me. I cried out for him to stop. I'd never been with a man. I was a virgin. Everything was stretched and ripped. I screamed in pain, stars exploding in my vision. He stopped and looked at me, his brows furrowed. Then he smiled.
"You are pure. Untouched. Now the question is, am I gentle? Or am I rough." Whilst he spoke his fingers continued to hammer into me. Thick, fat tears rolled down my cheeks and I nearly passed out with pain. I hadn't wanted this to happen; I didn't want any of this!
Then, slowly, gently he removed his fingers. He bent his head and gently ran his tongue over my sorest parts. He whispered something, inaudible to me and the pain vanished. In its place came wave upon wave of exquisite pleasure. He was knelt over me again, his fingers caressing my folds. I groaned, flexing underneath him as he buried his head in my neck. After a few moments, I stopped. Everything froze as pressure built, each contraction of my muscles sent shivers of ecstasy through my thighs. I gabbled into the stranger's ear; "W-what's happening? I've never felt like this...I...I..." my words broke into moans. Loki whispered in my ear; "An orgasm my little toy..." and then it stopped. He stopped. He removed his fingers, roughly shoving them into my mouth. I gagged at the unknown taste and cried harder as the new sensation was viciously removed. He pulled away, kissed my forehead and slunk back into the shadows. The last thing I saw was the white teeth in that evil smile.
I lay for what seemed like hours. My shackles were making my shoulders ache and I drifted in and out of a pitiful sleep. The pain from Loki's onslaught was murky but with every move of my thighs, the sharp sting of raw flesh reminded me of what I had lost. I cried, I screamed, I called out for help. But there was nothing. I prayed, called on every God I knew. But still, no freedom. And eventually, I sung;
"Brave the snow, through the pillars of the pale, rest your feet, come and listen to the tales. Raise your mug, to the legends of the frost. Through our songs, they will never be lost. Tales that will never be lost...kept in the legends of the frost"
His voice joined mine as I sung. I looked up as I heard his voice, the sound sweet and deep, like the old songs in stories. I tilted my head, our eyes locked, and as I reached the chorus, the ancient words flowed off of my tongue, a language spoken no more, and locked in myth and lore.
"Kruziik Ahkrin Haalvut Lok, Oblaan Qostiid Rein Norok, Briinah Bruniik Sahrot Vahdin, Zeymah Mul Kendov Krin.."
He cut across me as I drew out the last note, his voice almost hysterical. "The Song of the Giants? Where did you hear this?!"
"My Mother sung it to me as a young child. It tells a story of the soldiers made of ice...the legends of the frost..." I spoke quickly, desparately trying to please the God, but his face was angry, indifferent to my words.
"Do not sing that song again." Unbeknownst to me, the song made Loki shiver with fear, it scared him to his core. Then he slapped me, covering the space from the door to my bed within seconds. Energy shifted in the room and in a flash of green, I was surrounded by hundreds of his doubles. Then I realised. The God of Mischief. The legends, the myths, it was all true. Then there were one of him. His bent down to my ear, placing the tip of his staff to my belly button. Pleasure washed through me and I screamed in shock. His words were venom;
"For the song you have sung, I will punish you." Cool metal slithered around my waist and between my legs. Green light covered my body and I felt a drop of water hit my cheek. I was crying. The metal tightened painfully round my waist and the pleasure continued to flow. He teased my body, tweaked my nipples, nipped at my skin and near broke me into shattered pieces. Then he vanished. I was left naked and frustrated with despair. Then I examined the contraption around my body. Intricate bands of silver and gold wound together, the seemed to move with me, breathe even. I tried to remove it, but as I flexed my hips and fought my bonds it tightened, constricting my breathing. I gasped and the edges of my vision went black as the magic deprived me of air. I realised. If I relaxed I could breathe, if I struggled, I'd die. I immediately went limp. I knew what this was. I knew why he'd teased me so. I was in chastity. I could not be touched, nor touch myself. I was a prisoner in my own body. I howled in anguish. Screaming his name again and again, to let me free, let me go! My howls were met with silence. I even sung again, to try and provoke him, but still nothing. I cried again, cursing myself for my weakness. I fell into a disturbed sleep full of broken, confused dreams. What was to become of me in the hands of the trickster God?