Star-Crossed (12/?)

Authors: cincoflex and starhawk2005

Fandom: Marvel's Avengers

Date: Feb 2014

Pairing: Loki/ OFC

Rating: Adult (18+).

Summary: Loki and Star just can't stay away from each other for long.

Disclaimer: We don't own Loki. As if Mr. "Kneel Before Me!" would permit it!

Oh God, no.

Star is well-aware that her mouth is hanging open, but she can't seem to get it to close.

What the fuck is he doing?

It's been over three weeks since Heimdall sent her home, and Star has felt rather proud of her ability to compartmentalize. She's managed somehow not to spend every waking moment worrying about Loki - Is he in trouble? Is he making trouble? Will Odin change his mind and decide to impose a harsher sentence? Will Thor change his mind and report her to SHIELD? - just some moments. Although she must admit those moments have been on the rise as the time passed.

In all, she's pretty relieved to see him, except . . . not here!

Not in the middle of one of her goddamned classes, in the midst of lecturing on the sexual anatomy of the human female.

Please, God, no.

A few students are already done scribbling her last point in their notebooks, and she can feel their curious gazes on her as Loki smirks and glides into the room. He's wearing his dark suit, though his cane-staff thing is nowhere in evidence. Leisurely he folds himself into an empty desk right in the front row, slumping into the seat with his legs sticking out half a mile in front of him.

Don't look at him. Don't. She doesn't know what the students are seeing; Loki could look like any other student, or he could be invisible to them for all she knows. Either way, if the students observe her staring at either an empty desk or a seemingly fellow student. . . yeah, that'll be all kinds of bad.

She shifts her gaze back to her lecture notes and turns back towards the screen, gritting her teeth. Ignore him. Don't give him the satisfaction.

She uses her clicker to advance the slide and in the most normal, neutral voice she can muster, she turns back to the students, looking up over everyone's head towards the back wall so she won't have to meet Loki's knowing grin. She continues: "And this is the clitoris. One interesting fact about it is that it's the only organ, in both the male and female, which is solely devoted to pleasure . . . Unlike the penis in the male, which has two roles. And these are?" She prompts them, waiting. They should know this; she covered male sexual anatomy last class.

Someone mumbles something about urination and ejaculation. Loki leans back, looking up at the image on the screen and doing his best to appear attentive but it's all he can do not to laugh aloud.

He'd intended to surprise his pet, to observe precisely what it is she does all day and having this image projected up in front of an audience of young, embarrassed Midgardians strikes him as utterly hilarious. Loki senses that the majority of the students around him are only vaguely familiar with this part of the female body, poor fools. He himself had learned about the heated rose centuries ago, first through the scrolls of Freya, secreted away in the locked section of the library, and later with fumbling flirtations with various smitten maids of his youth.

Magic of a particular sweetness, Loki knew and missed at this particular moment. He feels himself stiffen a bit and cocks his head towards his pet, knowing full well she is striving hard not to acknowledge him slouching there, knees apart. If her profession is to instruct Migardian youth on their own anatomy, it's no wonder she is so . . . forthright. And knowledgeable, Loki admits to himself. His pet is well-versed in pleasure, certainly, pleasure he's missed in these long days.

It takes only a few moments for Star to get back into her teaching mindset; this wouldn't be the first time someone has tried to disrupt her lecture, even if it's the first time a Norse god has done so. She continues with the parts of the clitoris, moves to other structures in the area, and then moves to a discussion of the internal reproductive organs. She mentions a few anatomical controversies, like the existence of the so-called 'G-Spot' in women, and then it's finally time to end the class, much to her relief.

She shuts down the projector and organizes her notes, fielding questions from a small mob of students around her desk. "No, the test isn't for another two weeks." "No, if you missed a class, you need to ask your study-buddy for the notes." "Yes, many women have irregular periods. That's not unusual."

Finally the room empties of everyone except her and Loki. Star leans her hip against her podium, crossing her arms and raising her eyebrow at him, followed by a smirk.

"So this is what you do," Loki murmurs, rising up with the grace of a panther. "Instruct the youth on the delights of rutting. Your classroom needs fewer desks and more beds, I should think. Far better to take matters in hand rather than in discussion." He smiles at her though, to let her know he's teasing. She looks particularly pretty at the moment, and Loki drinks her in, feeling a familiar spike of erotic anticipation.

"It's not the only thing I do," she answers, moving to pack her things into her backpack. "I trained as a psychologist - studying mental disorders, that is - but psychology is also the study of human behaviour, which of course includes sexual behaviour. But not all profs are willing to teach the Sex classes, so those of us who are, have Sex a lot. So to speak." She chuckles.

"I don't do live demonstrations though, so don't get any ideas, you," she jokes. He's standing in front of her now, looming as he so often does, and her pulse starts to pick up just a bit. "No clothes ever come off in these classes. I'd get fired. Or worse!"

"Fired?" Loki looks at her uncertainly. He has an idea what she means-dismissed from her job-but sometimes Midgardian idioms are tricky. "Or worse?"

Perhaps his pet is referring to some sort of torture. He reaches out to lift her chin. "I will not permit it."

"Don't worry," she reassures him. "I've got tenure. No need to subjugate the administrators." She winks and cups her hand around his. She can still feel the bite-mark. "Can I ask you something, Loki?"

"You may, always," he tells her. "Some things I may not be willing to answer, but I know you are the same."

"Why is this still here?" she asks softly, taking his hand and turning it over, tracing fingertips across the half-moon of bite-marks. "This should have healed by now."

He draws in a breath, trying to think how best to answer her. "I kept it because I need it," Loki murmurs. "Before we stood at Odin's throne, I wore it in acknowledgement that when I am with you, I am . . . vulnerable. Afterwards, the Allfather muted my magic, which included healing. If I should concentrate for a few days on end I could force it to heal I suppose, but I prefer not to." He pauses and adds softly, "I like the pain. There is risk and respect in it. There is uncertainty, which for a god is a rare pleasure."

She's not sure she understands, but she nods anyway. If it keeps her safe from the darkest side of his temper, then that's definitely acceptable. She leans into him and slips her hands under his suit jacket, sliding them up the planes of his chest and enjoying the feel of hard, warm flesh beneath smooth fabric. "So," she asks lightly to change the subject, "What have you been up to lately?"

"Travel," Loki tells her, savoring her touch. "Yours is a world of surprising variety, and I have spent time familiarizing myself with it. In some ways it seems to encompass many of the nine realms all in one. The chill of Niflheimr, the heat of Muspellsheimr, the dark underground realms of Svartálfaheimr-so much to explore."

He is impressed; Midgard has more to it than Loki first realized and it only reinforces his belief that Odin is slipping. To have handed over this many resources and this much potential . . . Feeling mischievous, Loki slips his hands around Star, ostensibly to hug her, but in truth to slide his long palms around her ass. Ever delectable, he thinks to himself and stiffens further.

Star giggles and rubs up against the obvious bulge in his pants. "The next class starts in fifteen minutes," she says rather breathlessly. "Which means people are going to start showing up any second now." She does some fast thinking. "Maybe we should get out of here? I know a great little place to eat around the corner. Have you ever tried a hot-dog before?"

Loki hesitates. He doesn't want to be judgemental, at least not with his pet, but the idea of eating a hunting companion doesn't quite strike his fancy. Something in his expression seems to reach her though, and she giggles. That makes him realize the term must also be one of those confusing Midgardian terms that doesn't mean what it implies on first impression.

"No, I've never tried a hot-dog, although I remember chocolate quite fondly," he hints, reinforcing this with another squeeze of her ass. She obligingly wriggles against him for a few seconds before pulling away.

He's just too cute sometimes, especially with those dimples. "There's no 'dog' in them, I promise. At least, not that I know of," she admits with a grin, slinging her backpack over one shoulder. "And no chocolate either," she adds, "though there's an ice-cream place somewhere around here too. If you want, we can get dessert there afterwards. You do seem hungry," she teases, giving him a sly look.

She walks out of the room ahead of him, very aware of his eyes glued to her ass. A brief stop at her office to get her coat, and then they're off, though she waits until they are well away from the school to link her fingers through his. She doesn't know who might be watching.

All told, Loki manages to put away four 'all-dressed' hot-dogs, and enough fries to feed a small army. "Where the heck do you keep all that food?" Star marvels, stealing a fry from his almost-empty tray. "D'you have a hollow leg or something? Or is it magic?" She smirks at him.

He manages a quick smile before popping another fry into his mouth. "I haven't eaten in a week or two," Loki tells her. "In the rush of exploring Midgard it has slipped my thoughts." At his pet's alarmed look he adds, "I am fine; on occasion I simply forget such issues. And there were places where the local cuisine looked . . . dangerous. Better to share meals with you. I believe you said something about ice cream?"

"Somehow I doubt there's any food - or anything else - on this rock that can harm you." Star points out. "But yes, we'll go get ice cream after this, I promise."

She hesitates, then reaches to touch the back of his hand. "I'm glad to hear you were just seeing the sights. I was starting to get a little, well, worried."

He flashes her a look of surprise without realizing it, and lets his expression settle into a small smile. "Really? I thought you might feel otherwise after all the difficulties in the last time we were together. In fact, I wasn't certain about coming into your class, but I find it impossible to stay away for very long. My own company is well and good, but even a god may get lonely after a while."

Loki doesn't tell her he loves her. Every time in the past that he's done that it's created difficulties, and considering he may be on Midgard for a while it would be better to be on easier footing with his pet. Instead, he lowers his voice and adds, "I have dreamt of you, little treasure. Intensely."

Star agrees with him that they had fought a lot during their last rendezvous. And in the end, had any of the things she'd said sunk in?

She doesn't know, but no matter how he feels about her, no matter how conflicted he might be . . . he does keep coming back for more.

She slips both her hands around his much larger one and leans in, lowering her voice as well. "Have you? Well, tell me yours, and I'll tell you mine." She can feel slow heat gathering in her cheeks, but there's nobody close enough to overhear, so fuck it.

"Mine involve having you tied to a swing," he tells her, his green eyes bright. "A very particular sort of swing, in fact. I'll give you this-the Midgardians who throw themselves into rutting certainly do so with style! I found a shop with several of the most intriguing items in it-"

Star giggles and presses a hand against her flushed face. "I'll bet you did. A swing, huh? Hmm, I've never done that before. Do tell me more," she invites, leaning in further.

"You had your head back and were pleasuring me with your mouth," Loki tells her, feeling a surge of desire at the memory. "I had my hands on the ropes so I could control your rocking movements and the sensations were amazing. So much so that I confess I climaxed shortly after waking. The very sight of you bound in the swing, your hair trailing and brushing my thighs, the sight of your bound body open under me as you gave yourself over strictly for my pleasure . . . it was primitive and beautiful and very arousing. Had I control of the dream I might have doubled myself and had you forwards and backwards . . ."

He trails off, amused at how pink his pet's face is, how she is trying not to squirm in her seat. "Have I said something to . . . provoke you?"

"Yes," she admits in a low purr. She's soaking wet already. Part of her wants to just roll over, submit, do anything it will take to get him to do the things he's telling her about . . .

But ever the competitor, remembers she still owes him a 'dream'. Which is not strictly true; she doesn't often remember her dreams, and most of those are of the unpleasant variety. This would qualify more as a daydream, but that's close enough.

"And you enjoy provoking me, I know," she continues, licking her lower lip, his eyes following the movement avidly. She squeezes her hands tighter around his and leans in closer, moving to wriggle a foot out of her boot as she does so. Risky, of course, because someone might notice, but no doubt her mischief-maker will approve.

"But you don't need to provoke me . . .no, your queen remembers all she promised you. I have been dreaming about that. How I will have you strip that gorgeous body bare in front of me, how you will bend yourself over the bed at my word. And then how I will take that little jar of Notyr and massage every inch of that tight ass of yours." Across the table, Loki's eyes are unmistakably dilated, and Star can see the pulse at his neck speeding up.

"And once I'm done teasing that tight little opening, innnnnn goes the toy," she says, and on the last word, she reaches out with her foot (it's easy, he's slouching with his legs open; he always sits like a whore) and presses her sock-clad sole over the straining bulge in his trousers. His mouth judders open in a soft gasp and his hand tightens around hers.

"Yours is a good dream," he murmurs in a quick breathless rush of words, "Yes an extremely good dream. Definitely. I think we should do something about these dreams. Right away."

It's been a while, almost too long for him and simply being this close to his pet is making him a little light-headed, particularly when she does the things she is doing now. He shifts, dropping a hand under the table to catch her foot, to keep it pressed close to his throbbing cock.

"I agree completely," she answers with a sly smirk. "I think the only remaining question is which of us will get to be in control first-"

She breaks off as she glances over at the door. "Oh shit," she mutters, snatching her hands away from Loki's. Her cheeks go pale as she twists her foot free of his grip and stuffs it rapidly back into her boot, explaining in a low urgent voice: "One of my officemates just walked in. Please God, let her not have seen us holding hands." Or worse, Star adds silently in her head, trying fruitlessly not to look like the cat that just swallowed the canary.

At Loki's puzzled look, she elaborates in a quick, lowered tone: "She's met my husband. She'll know you're not him." Why did I take him somewhere so close to work? I'm a complete idiot! She covers the side of her face with her hand, as if that pathetic shield will somehow disguise her identity.

Loki takes a moment and lets himself shift expression, his face growing melancholy, his eyes slightly damp. It's easy to let his voice become hesitant and slightly broken.

"I cannot thank you enough for listening to me," he tells his pet, making sure to let his shoulders slump a bit. "Honestly cousin, losing Tony has utterly destroyed me. He was my love, my life, my everything. It's been a constant nightmare trying to get used to being on my own. I adored my partner . . ." Loki lets his head drop and gives a little hitch to his breathing.

It's a masterful performance, he knows, and doesn't dare risk looking at his pet just yet. She's smart, and she'll pick up on the clues he's just given her. Certainly anyone else can see that he's a wounded man seeking the comfort of a family member . . . right?

Star stares at him for a second. Then she catches on and puts on her most sympathetic expression as she lays her hand gently on top of his again. "It's his loss," she says in her most reassuring tones. "He'll never find anyone else who'll put up with his quirks, believe me."

She leans forward. "Trust me, Luke, you're way better off without him. You deserve better. And I have faith you'll find someone better." Loki looks up at her, his eyes moist and his expression now hopeful, and it's a struggle not to laugh. Not because his performance is lacking, but because it's perfect, and somehow that's the funniest thing of all.

But now her officemate Lila is coming over to say hello. Star manages to keep a straight face as she introduces her 'cousin Luke' and explains he's going through a rough breakup with his partner, and that she was just about to take them both to the local ice cream shop for the mandatory 'breakup pint'.

Lila nods and says how sorry she is to hear it, and moments later Star and Loki are back on the street. She manages to wait until they turn onto a deserted side-street out of sight of the restaurant, before the giggles finally work their way out of her throat. She clings to Loki's jacket and buries her face in his chest as she laughs. She calculates it's about sixty-percent amusement and forty-percent hysteria.

"Wow, that was close," she says, straightening up at last and wiping moisture from her eyes and cheeks. "Thanks for that. You definitely have earned yourself some ice cream." She smiles up at him gratefully. "Among other things," she adds with a saucy wink.

"All of which I intend to collect, with interest," Loki tells her. "Although I may need more than one session of counseling, and certainly more than one pint of ice cream."

She snorts a giggle again and Loki offers her his arm, delighted to have made her laugh and pleased that they've managed an alibi of sorts. It's unfortunate that 'Tony' was the first name to come to mind; Loki senses some teasing in the future about that. Still there is chocolate in the immediate future and a chance to make some dreams come true if his luck holds, thanks to the leeway he's gotten for magic here on Midgard.

Loki can do more than he thought he could-moving through time on this planet is becoming easier with every attempt-and even teleporting works, although it takes a bit more concentration than usual.

"OK, now where was this place again?" Star thinks out loud, glancing up and down the street. After a few false starts, during which she decides to ignore Loki's amusement at her hopeless sense of direction, they manage to find the parlour.

They order without any incident - she pulls out a twenty before Loki can conjure one of his handmade figurines this time - and they soon settle onto stools by the front window. Two scoops of chocolate for him again, and one scoop each of chocolate and chocolate-mint-chip for her.

One thing hasn't changed though: his eyes still track the motions of her tongue with great interest as she enjoys her treat. This again? She smirks at Loki as she licks her lips clean of ice cream.

"Having impure thoughts, are we, Luke?" she purrs at him.

"Are you going to finish that?" he asks, grinning. "And yes, I am. So are you for that matter, so the issue is-what are we going to do about them, dear, sweet cousin?"

"Keep your tongue to yourself, this ice cream is mine," she mock-growls with her own grin. "As to the other matter, dear 'cousin'-" her words break off as realization sets in. "Can we do something about them? I imagine Odin's sentence doesn't allow you to remove us from the Earth timeline and place us into your pocket Realm like we used to, and I have my next class in-" she checks her watch, "about three hours." She looks back up at him anxiously.

"We can do a great deal in three hours," Loki points out, one eyebrow arching, "although I have had to forfeit my little world for the moment. And I can still move in time, little treasure. All the practice I've had prior to this banishment has come in useful-we can spend our three hours in lustful activity and at the end of it I can reset us to this particular moment with ease."

He lets his words sink in, aware that his pet is still a bit conflicted. It's one thing to whisk away to his realm-a sort of neutral territory-and a different one to look around one's own neighborhood. Loki wonders if she would prefer another era even as he glances back at the counter.

It would have to be an era with chocolate, he thinks.

"You're right, we could do a lot," she agrees. "I just hate feeling like I have to keep one eye on the clock the whole time, you know? But if you can still do your time-bending trick and I won't be missed, then that's a relief!"

"So now we just need a place to go. You don't happen to know of one, do you?" she asks him. If he's been traveling, probably not. She wonders if there's any likely hotels or motels in the area; except for her school and a couple restaurants in the area, she actually doesn't know this part of town all that well.

"I do in fact know of one," he tells her with a hint of smugness. "A little place, off the beaten path, with the amenities still. It's temporary to my scheme of things but still enough to pamper us a bit?"

He'd just come from there in fact-Geneva, nineteen fifty-three. Lovely city.

Star narrows her eyes at him - He has a 'scheme'? It figures - but keeps her peace as she finishes her last bite of cone. "Well," she answers with a smile, brushing the crumbs from her hands. "Sounds promising. Shall we?"

Loki rises and holds a hand out to her, his manner courtly. Outside on the sidewalk, he looks around and sees the entrance of another store, its entrance providing a slight alcove. Directing his pet there, he steps close enough to slip an arm around her and whisper.

"I've gotten better at sliding along the timelines and leylines of your world, but this will require concentration. Hold onto me tightly and don't. let. go."

Giving her a moment to do so, Loki savors the warmth for a few seconds and closes his eyes.

He feels the rush of time brushing his face like a snare of cobwebs, and the chill of moving too quickly for the sun's heat to touch them. Before the cold becomes unbearable, Loki flexes his knees, readying to touch down.

They do, and he tightens his hold on his pet all the better to steady her as they pop into existence just behind a tall hedge of a park. By the light in the sky it's early morning, and Loki can see the lovely carved doorway of the Hotel Geneva not more than thirty paces away from them. He looks to Star, checking to see if she is all right.

Star shivers - she's not sure what Loki had been doing, but it had been chilly - and looks around. She steps away from him the better to take in their surroundings, though his hand slides down her arm and grips her hand gently.

The park around them is totally unfamiliar to her, and then she notices something strange: The few people around are dressed oddly, and the cars driving by in the distance seem very . . .retro.

Nor is there a single cellphone or laptop to be seen among the few people scattered about the park. OK, not in Kansas anymore, she thinks. She turns back to Loki. "I'll bite - where the heck are we?"

"I believe the city is called Geneva, and we are about sixty-one years in the past," he tells her. "I heard someone from even further back call it a safe place and thought I'd see for myself. The Midgardians here are very polite and very . . . discreet," Loki adds. He points with his chin towards the hotel and slips a hand in his pocket, producing a sheaf of banknotes. "The same person was very careless with his wallet, unfortunately. Shall we?"

He gives Star a smile, watching her look about the city in fascination.

"Sure," she says, hooking her hand through his elbow. He steers them both towards a building with an impressively ornate doorway, though Star can't help looking around at the rest of the view. She doesn't think she's seen so many 'unplugged' people since she was a teenager.

She also feels like she's sticking out like a sore thumb in her jeans, but nobody seems to have noticed. Maybe Loki has one of his illusions over them, she muses as Loki leads her into the lobby of the hotel.

The foyer has a white marble floor and elegant black and white velvet furniture, slightly worn but still impressive. Loki steps up to the counter and a round little elderly woman in a black dress looks up at him, her expression shifting into a smile.

"Monsieur Laufeyson, welcome back to the Hotel Geneva sir."

"Mademoiselle Annette, thank you," Loki tells her, flashing a smile her way. "A . . . suite, please?"

"But of course," the woman bustles with the registry book, giving his pet a polite glance. "You and your companion shall have the Emerald Suite. The kitchen is still serving breakfast if you so desire, and I can send the boy around to bring you whatever newspapers you may want this time."

"Actually, we've just travelled a long way and I think rest is the order of the day," Loki tells the concierge, taking the proffered pen and signing a string of rune-looking letters in the book. "Will you see we are not disturbed, please?" he slides a series of banknotes over along with the registry book and Mademoiselle Annette tucks them away before presenting him with a key with a metal tag engraved with the hotel's name.

"Absolutely, Monsieur Laufeyson; consider it done. Rest well," the concierge murmurs, a twinkle in her eyes. She waves to the elevator on the far side of the lobby, and Loki leads his pet towards it, unhooking the metal gate and pushing it open to usher her in.

The suite is predictably green, though tastefully so. Actually, there's less green than in Loki's rooms in Asgard. And no damned knot-work!

The king-sized bed is the largest green thing in the room and the furniture carved with curlicues, and Star glimpses an old cast-iron claw-foot tub in the bathroom, though her attention is mostly taken up by the archaic technology. There's a radio on a side-table probably thirty times the size of the one she has at home, and the room has an old picture-tube style TV.

"Oh my God," she marvels to Loki, "I haven't seen a TV with a UHF dial since I was a kid! We had an old black-and-white one I'd watch when I was sick, though I think I only got two or three local channels. Damned bunny-ears antennae."

Loki doesn't quite understand what she's talking about, but her mood is upbeat, which will mean good things for him, so he peels off his coat and gloves, putting them away properly; he's learned the hard way to take care of his possessions here on Midgard. "I am pleased that you are pleased," he tells his pet lightly. "This particular establishment is one of the better ones in this city." He moves to draw the sheer drapes closed, making the lighting in the room slightly dimmer, and feels his pet come up behind him, her arms circling his waist.

"Claiming me?" he teases, savoring her hug.

"If you want me to," she answers back, leaning her cheek against his back as her fingers twine with his longer ones. "If you wish to play 'ice prince' to my queen, we can do that. Or if you prefer to have fun with swings, we could do that instead," she says agreeably. Which reminds her-

Star lets go of Loki and steps back, feeling his curious gaze on her as she reaches into her jeans pocket and pulls out a thin gold chain that she's been keeping on her person for the last couple weeks, since she didn't know when Loki would come to see her.

It's probably not even real gold, and it may not even fit him, but it's always been a weird size for her - too long to be a choker, too short for her to consider it a decent necklace - so she's never worn it much. It might therefore fit Loki, and if it goes missing, nobody is bound to notice.

She allows the chain to dangle from her fingers. "Should you decide to play at the first option, I have your collar right here. If you please me enough to earn it, of course," she adds with a smirk.

Loki meets her gaze, his own reflecting her impishness. "Hmmm, how tempting. Since my last piece of finery was taken from me, I am intrigued." He circles around her, keeping his gaze on his pet as he does so. "I have only . . ." he stops to calculate for a moment, "three more feats of magic I can do today; I am limited to that each day with no accumulation alas. Since one of them will be to return you to your place and time, that means only two more, so I put it to you, sweet queen, what do you require? Attire? Playthings? Myself multiplied?"

He sees her consider his words and waits, a tingle of impatient desire rising through him, because whatever his pet chooses, whatever she wants, Loki wants it too. Oh yes, yes, he does.

Star smirks at him. "I do believe I have unfinished business with you, ice prince. Therefore I require your wardrobe and your toybox. Can you conjure those for me?"

He smirks back at her and makes a few elegant passes of his hands, and within moments the two pieces are standing in the middle of the room.

"Excellent," Star says crisply. "Now, strip for me. Slowly." She folds her arms across her chest and eyes him up and down, waiting.

Loki waits a moment, letting the mood slow and thicken before undoing his cuffs. It's fascinating how focused his pet is on his every little gesture, and that attention is making his prick thicken all the quicker. A slow unbuttoning of his vest, followed by the the same of his shirt and Loki shrugs out of them, letting them fall to the carpet.

Barechested now, he allows himself to run a palm over his chest and moves to undo his belt, keeping his gaze on Star and forcing himself not to smile at her hungry look. The click as he unbuckles seems loud in the suite, as does the sound of the zipper.

When Loki steps out of his slacks, he toes off his shoes at the same time, and crouches to flick each sock off before rising again, naked and long, as much a prince in bare skin as in clothing. He shifts his weight to one hip, aware of his heavy cock at half-mast, of the silky heft of his balls against his inner thighs. "Does this please you?" comes his soft purr.

She regards him from under her eyelashes and licks her lips, but otherwise she doesn't answer him right away. Star takes the time to move around him, slowly, grazing her fingertips over the taut curve of his ass, the ridged column of his spine, the plane of his hip as she circles back around in front of Loki.

"Very nice," she informs him. "Now you may disrobe me."

He smirks slowly as he moves to obey, his gaze on hers as he bends to take the hem of her dark red shirt in his hands. He pulls it up slowly over her torso and arms, his fingers brushing lightly against her skin as he does so. Star waits patiently as he shifts behind her to undo the clasp of her bra, though a moment later he's back in front of her again, eyebrow raised.

She smirks up at him. "Not in the back, no." She makes no move to help him, though he figures it out quickly enough, locating and working loose the clasp between her breasts. "Clever prince," she breathes as he does so, Star fighting to suppress a little shiver as the palms of his hands glide lightly over each nipple as he removes the bra. That was deliberate on his part, no doubt.

He smiles down at her as he hooks his fingers in the waistband of her jeans and pulls her closer, then he kneels to undo the button and zipper. She closes her eyes the better to enjoy the little butterfly brushes of his hands on her skin as he slowly pulls the jeans down, and she leans on his shoulder as she steps out of them.

His nose grazes the front of her panties and Star has to fight another shudder, fingers digging into his shoulder, and it's Loki's turn to lick his lips as he pulls those down and off just as slowly as he did her jeans. Her socks disappear soon after, and now they're both naked, Star pleased to see Loki is fully aroused now.

"Very good, my prince. You did that so well, you deserve a reward." She motions towards the wardrobe. "I will therefore allow you the privilege of deciding what attire I will wear while I am . . . entertaining you." she says with a salacious grin.

Loki brushes against her as he moves to the wardrobe, making sure the contact is light, and opens it, reaching without a moment's hesitation for the rosewood hanger. He pulls it out and pivots, presenting an elegant merry widow of rich blue silk-the precise shade of an ice giant. It has stockings to go with it; sheer whispers of material edged at the top with black lace, and little wristlet gloves of black lace as well. Decadent, and altogether appropriate for this city, this century.

He brings one stocking up to his lips and nibbles it.

Star tilts her head to the side, pretending to be debating the merits of his choice. "It will do," she asserts. "And if you are so keen to devour something, perhaps you should demonstrate some patience and wait until I am actually wearing those?" She shoots this last remark at him with a little wink as she turns and walks to his toybox. If she knows him at all, he'll be studying her bare backside very intensely, and she smiles to herself as she flips the toybox cover open.

She quickly locates and gathers the items she needs, though she takes a moment to dig around to see what other interesting things might be hiding in the corners and bottom of Loki's box of tricks. She spreads her legs apart just a bit as she bends over, and she can almost feel Loki shifting position, as if he's thinking about dropping all pretense and just leaping on her. She grins slyly as she goes back to the task at hand.

Huh, she thinks, eyes widening at one particular toy. Interesting. Well, perhaps if he's good enough - or bad enough, rather - he'll get to experience that one as well this session.

She slams the chest shut louder than she needs to and walks casually over to the bed, once again laying out her 'tools' in a neat line across the mattress. A length of rope, the gem-encrusted jar of Notyr, and the small, conical butt-plug. She'll forgo the muzzle and handcuffs this time; she's had enough drama. She's not certain, but she thinks she sees a little shiver of anticipation curl through Loki's frame at the sight of her playthings.

Star turns to face him, though she counts to five slowly in her head to let the anticipation build. "Well, what are you waiting for, ice prince?" she says with mock impatience when her count is finished. "Dress me."

"Must I?" Loki counters; two can play at being a bit of a brat if it comes to that. "Very well my queen."

He lets himself be far clumsier than usual, getting in a good amount of touches as he helps her into the corset and does the hooks up the spine. On his knees Loki has a magnificent view as he helps to hook the stockings to the ribbon tabs, and when he trails his knuckles along the inside of his pet's thigh he feels her fighting a shudder of pleasure.

As overtures go, this promises to be fun, and he fights a smile. Still, it won't do to push too far, and he moves back on his knees, shaking his hair out of his eyes and letting his tongue touch his lower lip lightly.

The blue satin complements her beautifully, and the filtered light of the room gives an intimate, almost languorous feel to it all. Loki savors the anticipation, and feels his pulse thrum along the base of his prick. Pain, pleasure-it's all good and he hungers for it more than he will ever admit to anyone. There are so many delicious options open now, and his only regret is not being able to do them all. Will she mock him? Slap him? Tease him? Pet him?

Every alternative makes him breathe a little harder.

Oh, she nearly forgot- Star nods down at Loki and sashays to her discarded jeans, pulling the golden chain out of the pocket again. She goes to lay it down as part of the line of toys, and then turns to beckon to Loki. "To me, ice prince," she orders, though she smiles.

He pauses just long enough to earn a raised eyebrow from her, but she says nothing, only continuing to smile knowingly. He can resist and wait, or he can obey and be pleasured, and she's sure that much is obvious to him.

She makes a show of studying the lace of her wristlets with great interest, and at last he lowers his chin and obeys, rising gracefully to his feet and moving to her side.

"Bend over and place your hands on the bed," is her next command, smirking as her eyes take in his lean, handsome form.

Loki tenses for only a second as her words flicker through his mind and his body senses what is to come. He moves with deliberation, finding the right place to stand, and lightly, obediently, sets his palms on the duvet, his fingers splayed to brace himself.

A surge of anticipation rolls over his skin, making him shudder ever so faintly. Loki knows how vulnerable he is right now. This submissive position has him feeling defensive and hungry all in one. He keeps his head up, looking over at Star and waiting to see what she will do next.

Star steps closer to Loki, making sure to rub up against him as she reaches to stroke the side of his face. His eyes flutter closed as she traces the line of cheek, jaw, and chin. As always, he's so very warm to the touch, and for a moment she wonders what his real form looks like. Maybe another time.

Her caressing fingers move down his neck and shoulder, testing the texture of his skin, the quiver in his muscles. His breathing is becoming deeper and harsher, his eyes dark when they open to watch her hand slide down his forearm. Her touch next moves with calculated slowness, turning his hand over so she can trace along the bite-mark, circling each rough little scab, and Loki's whole body shivers. She wonders if she should be cautious about pushing him; if this goes as she's planned, she'll be denying him his release for a short while. Will this mark protect her from him if he gets angry again?

It makes her nervous, though she does her best to set that aside. He's kept the mark for a reason, after all. Star hopes it will serve as a reminder, assuming he needs one.

She takes a steadying breath and cards her fingers through his long hair, stopping to admire the sheen of it, before running her hand softly down his back. "So very well-made you are, my pet," she marvels out loud, very deliberately using his term for her.

Loki is caught between preening and chuckling; it's always entertaining to hear admiration for his body, particularly when served up in that low breathy tone of hers. He stays still, but another frisson of anticipation darts through him. He flexes his toes.

Star smirks at his reaction, placing a hand on his inner thigh and urging him to spread his legs wider. As expected, there's a token moment of opposition before he gives in, and once he's positioned correctly Star presses against his side, leaning to his ear. "Good boy. And now, I believe it is time for this-" she declares, her tongue laving his earlobe before she scoops up the Notyr jar .

Dipping two fingers into the lotion, she allows it to melt a little in her hand. She can feel Loki trying to watch her again as she circles around to stand behind him. The muscles in his calves and backside clench a little in anticipation, and Star can't help thinking that for someone who plays at being the Dom in so many aspects of his life, he certainly thoroughly enjoys relinquishing control.

She drizzles droplets of warmed Notyr slowly over the curves of his ass, noting how he quivers like a bowstring. She follows after the trails of Notyr, caressing and massaging it into his skin until it gleams, the faint spiced scent bringing back some pleasant memories of her own.

I really hope I don't botch this up. She's never done anything like this to a lover before. Well, that's wrong - once, with her husband, but that was years ago. Before things at home just became so . . . sedate. Yeah, let's not go there.

Loki's breathing is loud in the room, as finally Star drips more Notyr into the crease between his ass-cheeks and rubs it softly in all over, fingertips ghosting across the little ridged circle there.

The sensations make him want to purr; Loki wills himself to stay still, but it's getting more difficult-harder-all the time. His pet has a lovely sense of touch, and the degree of trust he has in her is allowing him to relax a bit. He wants to rock, to arch and wriggle a bit but Loki worries she'll stop if he does so he flexes his fingers against the duvet and lets a little groan of pleasure roll from his throat.

This is good, and getting better; he closes his eyes and savors it.

The sound he makes both amuses her and reassures her that he's enjoying himself. Star steps forward, pressing her leg in between his and allowing the silky stockings to rub against him, balls and prick. He groans again, his hands fisting the duvet.

"Enjoying yourself, my princely pet?" she asks, though she doesn't give him a chance to respond before she ups the ante. Her fingertips dance once more across the tight ring of his ass, then she trails those slickened fingers down and around his balls. He jerks and gasps, hands squeezing tighter fistfuls of bedding, and he strains to look back over his shoulder at her with eyes wide and mouth open. She smirks evilly back at him, her grin widening as her hand moves even lower, finding his cock and giving it a firm squeeze. His eyes squeeze shut, his breathing coming in heavy pants.

His hips shift, pushing back into her hand, so she strokes him a few times, enjoying how he twitches in her grip. Then she returns to the crease between his cheeks, applying just a little pressure to the opening. "I asked you a question, Loki," she observes. "Answer me."

He blinks at her, seeming befuddled, so she frowns at him and smacks his right cheek hard, though it makes her palm sting. "Answer me now, princeling, or I'll stop."

The temptation to stay silent and see if she follows through on her threat flits rebelliously through his mind for a microsecond, but Loki draws a quick breath instead and speaks. "Oh I am, immensely," he assures her, the heat of the slap burning nicely through his muscles. For a Midgardian she has more strength than he'd given her credit for, and that too is a pleasing thought. "My queen," he adds, giving her his best doe-eyed look along with it.

She seems pleased, and the imp within him can't help but add, "More?"

"Most certainly," she purrs as she reaches again for the Notyr. She scoops more lotion from the jar before taking up the plug, taking her time oiling it up, and against her hip she can feel Loki's leg tensing up just slightly. He's still watching, and she tosses him her most wicked look as she steps back behind him. "Hold yourself open for me, ice prince," she orders.

His sharp intake of breath is his only reaction for a heartbeat or two, before he spreads his stance wider and flexes his knees to keep his balance. His hands move to obey her, and is that a blush she's seeing on his pale face? Star has to work to keep from chuckling. The great and powerful - well, until recently - God of Mischief, laid low by a mortal and a small plastic toy. That could make for a fun crack-fic. Haha.

"Good boy," she says approvingly again. She takes a moment to admire the view; although being Domme is not her first choice, it is fun to have control over him, especially when every inch of him is just so delicious. She applies just a touch more Notyr to the glistening opening, then she begins to press the small, rounded tip of the plug into it.

Loki draws a breath, willing himself to relax against the pressure. Luckily the Notyr helps, and the sudden stretch gives way to a spike of pleasure as the toy slides in. Receiving penetration is always a bit of a challenge but Loki knows that the benefits are worth the initial difficulty, and his pet is being very gentle. He finds it gratifying to see that she's willing to work her will on him with as much delight as she does when their roles are reversed.

He lets these thoughts go though, as she lightly twists the toy, and the press of it within him sets off another thrilling wave low through his stomach. Loki lets his head drop, his long hair a wavy curtain around his face as he kneads the duvet with his long fingers. "Yessssss," comes his low hiss.

He's obviously enjoying himself. Star smiles and gives the plug another careful twist, feeling him quiver once more, then she reaches for the length of rope. Loki tenses then, clearly wondering what she's doing. She smirks as she steps behind him, saying nothing as she wraps the cord around his waist, tying a knot at his spine. She next feeds the two loose ends down through the crease of his buttocks, before putting a knot in the cords right at the level of the plug, pressing against its base. That should serve her purpose nicely.

The cord's ends are fed forward, Star placing each to run along the crease between thigh and torso, past his throbbing length, and finally looping the loose ends back through the 'belt' at his waist, knotting them there, though she makes an effort not to make them too tight.

She steps back to admire her handiwork for a moment. "Stand," she orders him, smiling at how flushed his face is, how his cock twitches as the plug and the knot pressing on it stimulate him in many interesting ways.

Loki does, another jolt of pleasure making itself known, weakening his knees. The cord adds another layer to the moment and he hopes he doesn't trip; a fall would definitely be uncomfortable. Still, it's far more daring and ambitious than anything his pet has tried before, certainly. He risks letting his hands drop to his sides and keeps his gaze down, his elegant toes working against the carpet while he waits her next direction.

His cock throbs, jutting forth.

"Hmmm," she pretends to muse. "You're missing somethin- Ah!" She reaches for the little golden chain. "Every pet needs his collar," she remarks as she motions for him to lean down. He does, though he quivers again as even that slight change of position makes the plug press against sensitive spots.

Star slips the necklace around his neck and does the clasp, then she steps away. She turns her back on Loki to climb up on the lush bed, before draping herself across it languidly.

"Walk for me, Loki of Asgard." she commands. "I wish to watch my gorgeous stallion go through his paces." She settles herself back against the pillows.

Loki draws a breath and moves, his actions slow and graceful. Sensations roil through him and he savors them as he does, taking care not to overdo any particular stride. He knows his pet is enjoying his little parade, particularly as he turns the corner of the bed and lifts his chin, aware of his shaft bobbing a bit at eye level for her. Still, she has commanded and it's easy to obey-for the moment. He risks a quick glance at her and lets his tongue touch his lower lip.

If she sees his flirtatious gesture she says nothing for the moment, but there is a look to her face that bodes more mischief, and Loki hopes he's ready for it. The feel of the chain adds a little more impetus to the moment, and he prepares to turn, feeling impish himself.

"Very nice," Star says approvingly. "Now come here."

Loki climbs up slowly and carefully onto the bed, though Star can see the sensual effects the plug is having on him. She guides him until he's bracing himself with his arms above her. Close enough to kiss, close enough for the hot length of his shaft to brush her thigh, but Star merely pans her gaze down the length of their bodies.

Possessed by impulse, she strokes her hand lightly down over the fabric-covered peak of her breast, and Loki's gaze locks immediately on to the movement of her hand. Doing her best not to smirk, she lazily trails her index finger around her nipple through the cloth, her other hand moving lower until she can cup it around the damp, warm material covering her sex, though she allows her lace-covered wrist to graze his belly ever-so-lightly as she does so.

"You entertained me well, my Loki. So now I'll entertain you," she says with as straight a face as she can manage, fully aware that this is more a torment than diversion for him.

Loki manages a smile, eyes bright. He watches her slow self-caresses, caught between enjoying them and wanting to participate himself but he hasn't been given permission to do so just yet. The lush scent of her skin makes Loki hungry, and he knows he's leaking precum too, but he stays still, striving for perfection.

His pet is lovely; the blue accents her cream complexion, and the jewel shade of it against the green of the duvet is gorgeous. Loki feels his hips tighten, and his prick very faintly grazes her thigh, leaving a hot, wet streak there.

Star pretends not to notice what he just did; in fact, she closes her eyes as though she is ignoring him completely in favour of focusing on her own pleasure. She allows herself to pull down the bra cup, exposing her nipple - may as well let him see something - and she tugs and twists it, moaning in her throat perhaps a touch louder than she normally would.

Her other hand dips under the waistband of the sapphire panties. Loki wouldn't be able to watch from his position regardless, though she makes sure to let her knuckles brush his belly through the fabric, so he'll know what evil she's up to.

Judging by how fast he's breathing, he's definitely enjoying her little display. A soft stroking of her fingers over her clit makes her shudder, and she wraps a lace-clad leg around Loki's hip as she opens her eyes again and smiles lazily up at him.

"Tell me, ice prince, what would you do to me right now, if I gave you permission to touch me?"

The answer comes without any hesitation. "I would pin your wrists over your head and let my prick slide over your mound again and again," Loki tells her, "and I would make you call me master until I was satisfied you truly meant it.."

There is more of course, but this is the most immediate action he'd take, given his hunger and need at the moment. He doesn't want to frighten her with descriptions of tying her ankles to the footposts, or raking his nails along the insides of her thighs just yet. It is not his turn, and Loki is curious about what else she might have up her sleeve. Given what he's already got up his ass, it could be both fun and trouble.

She has to struggle to silence a laugh. "I think you are forgetting who is Master here at the moment," Star says with mild reproof, her hand now toying with the cord at his waist, before tugging on it just a little.

He shudders as the plug is pushed a little deeper for a moment, but she releases the rope quickly and grabs a fistful of his hair, pulling Loki's face down to hers. "And if you wish to entice me into allowing you to climax, you're going to have to do better; I think you will find seduction will work faster than threats, my Loki."

"You asked," he points out in a purr, "and they weren't threats my lovely queen; they were promises for the future. If this tryst is a matter of seducing you, then I must wait for permission to touch or kiss or lick or nip the rather tantalizing banquet under me. I intend to behave but there are limits when these temptations are so enticing." As Loki speaks he lets his hair tickle her chest, and pushes feather-strokes along her thigh with his damp cock.

"I did ask," she agrees but with a tsk. "I asked what you would do when given that very permission, did I not? I do NOT recall asking about the future. But I suppose I must make allowances for the fact that most of your blood is no doubt rushing to your smaller head at the moment." She smirks up at him.

Idly, she reaches to run a finger along the cord, and even though she's exerting no pressure, Loki shivers again.

"Since your silver tongue is failing you, I suppose I'll just have to find another use for it," she ponders aloud, and then she uses her grip on his hair to gently tug his head until her bared nipple is brushing his lips. When he doesn't move though, except to squeeze fistfuls of the green duvet, she nods approvingly. "Good boy. You may touch me."

Loki circles his tongue around the perky point, then lightly suckles it, letting it slip from his mouth with a little popping sound. His pet wriggles a bit, her hips pressing against his, and the press of her hand between their bodies makes the ropes shift. He breathes in a quick groan and nips the edge of the corset, pulling it down so he has access to the other nipple.

After wetting each, he alters his breath from warm to cool, making his pet's chest pebble with goosebumps, her nipples hard and beautiful. Loki appreciates the view a moment and then worries them a bit with his white teeth, enjoying Star's little moans as he does so.

Cool breath again, this time on the undersides of her breasts, and he lets his tongue rasp against her skin. He aches now, his prick throbbing hard as his senses drink in the scents and sounds of his pet, and rebellion slips into his thoughts: Take her; she wants it. End this foolish game!

He laughs softly at himself and manages a nibble against her ribs, making his pet wriggle again. No rebellion this time; Loki is enjoying himself far too much to seriously consider it.

Working his way down, gauging her every shiver and squeak, Loki shifts, aware of the pleasure-pressure deep within him. He unties the strings of her panties at each hip, runs his chin over the sweet curls of her mound, and moving carefully, cups each side of it, squeezing lightly, making the cleft pout open like the ripe fruit that it is.

"Oh my queen," he purrs, looking up the length of her body and through his lashes at her, "Shall I kiss this glorious quim, savoring its sweet, slick juice?"

"Yes, do," she says encouragingly, proud that her voice isn't cracking. He's so very mercurial; one second she's sure he's going to yank control away from her and punish her for making him wait, but the next, he's the perfect little sub. It's very fitting for a God of Chaos, she supposes.

Long fingers hold her open as he presses a kiss against her, then a tongue slips hotly into her cleft. Star can't help but wriggle, her toes curling and her fingers curling into the duvet for dear life as he delves into her. Soft strokes along the length of her, ending with a light little flick against her button, and then he repeats, though each time, he flicks just a little more firmly.

She arches against his mouth just as he decides to settle in and suckle her there, sending a spike of pleasure right through her entire frame. By the time she slumps, damp and relaxed, he's sitting up again (he makes a soft noise as the plug shifts with his movements), running his palm over his mouth and gazing down at her with pride. He knows he's done well, and she's not inclined to disagree.

It's almost enough to make her forget her plan, but he'll thank her in the long run. She hopes.

"Very nice, ice prince. You've pleased me very well. Come here." She beckons him back over her, taking his thick reddened shaft in her hand and holding it lightly. He gasps, hips hunching forward into her grip, his eyes wide as she guides him to her entry.

"So I'm going to allow you to fuck me now," she whispers directly into his ear. "But there's one rule you have to follow - you can plunge into me as long and as hard as you want. . . but you can't come until I say you can." Without waiting for his answer, she nips his lobe and he slides him deep into her, groaning herself at the feeling of being breached.

Loki bites back the growl that rises in his throat and the nearly overwhelming pleasure of his pet's snug cleft slickly welcomes him. He arches into her, thrusting, and the shift of his hips makes the toy within him slide against that spot of sheer erotic torment; lightning flashes through his prick.

He thrusts harder, his strokes taking on a desperate rhythm and each driving stroke bounces him between the squeeze of his pet's cunt and the diabolical jolt of the toy caressing him. Loki begins to pant, hair swinging in a curtain around his face, his teeth rubbing against Star's throat in desperation. He cannot stop, he cannot fight the sullen surge of liquid lust building in his aching prick, and his balls tighten as he begins to reach that oh-so-dangerous point of glorious no return. Under him his pet lifts her hips up to meet each stroke, and her eyes glitter with sweet, raw lust.

"Not yet, ice prince," she hisses, trying to maintain some kind of calm - stick to the plan, stick to the plan! - in the middle of the maelstrom of pleasure. Inspiration strikes and she reaches behind him, grabbing the rope and pulling it harder than before, pressing on the plug.

Just as she hoped, Loki utters his loudest noise yet, part broken gasp and part choked-off howl, and shoves into her hard enough to make the wooden frame of the bed creak alarmingly. He shudders like a man caught naked in a blizzard, muscles frozen into steel as he releases himself into her.

He slumps heavily onto her, and Star takes pity on him, allowing him (and herself!) to rest for a few minutes. But as he starts to stir, she modulates her voice into faux disappointment. "Your lack of self-control is truly displeasing." Deliberately she grabs a fistful of his sweat-soaked hair and pulls until she can growl right into his ear: "You'll pay for that, Loki of Jotunheim."

She shoves at his hip with her foot and he rolls off to her side like a ragdoll, and she manages to avoid his abortive attempt to keep her in bed with him. Hiding her grin, she flounces off to the bathroom for a couple of towels, plotting her next move.

Loki lies on the coverlet, little shudders running through him in the aftermath of one of the most glorious orgasms of his life. He lets his heartbeat slow, and drifts into the languid torpor that inevitably follows such intensity, feeling extremely quenched. He hopes his pet herself has reached some sense of fulfillment as well since he has no particular strength at the moment, and probably will not until the toy within him is removed.

It worries him too, that instead of lying close by and checking to see if he is all right that she has instead slipped away, leaving him used and spent, like a discard. Loki rolls to look and see where is pet is.

Star wets a washcloth and wipes herself down quickly - his clean-up spell, though useful, is hardly essential - before tucking herself back into her bra and scooping up a couple more towels as she returns to the bedroom.

He's watching as she emerges so she puts on a show, scowling at him. "You'll pay dearly for your disobedience, little prince," she snarls as she struts over to the toy-box again, laying the towels aside for now. Her panties are still somewhere in the tangle of the duvet, and she's sure she's giving Loki a very interesting eyeful as she spreads her stockinged legs slightly and leans over to peer into the box.

The mess of straps she pulls out to inspect yields a soft gasp from the bed, and Star turns, face still carefully fixed into a glower. Loki's eyes are wide as he looks disbelievingly from her to the toy dangling from her grasp, and back again. In as calculated a way as she can cultivate, Star cups the small dildo attached to the harness, examining it closely. It's a little wider and longer than the plug Loki is currently wearing, and given how much he seems to be enjoying the latter, she hopes he'll enjoy this one just as well.

Of course, if he says no, she'll stop. But will he balk? She doubts it. Even if his healing powers are not what they once were, he's still a god. In addition, this toy has to be in here for a reason, right?

Star runs the ball of her thumb curiously over several rows of soft little nubs adorning the base of the toy. No doubt designed to stimulate the wearer . . .maybe it's a toy he normally reserves for play when he is wearing his female form? Star shrugs. If so, he's about to learn to appreciate the opposite side of it.

"Get over here and put this on me. NOW!" she orders, voice like a whiplash. Loki obeys but sluggishly, weaving a little as he gets off the bed and walks towards her. She feels a mix of amusement and pride though she manages to keep it off her face: Little ol' mortal me brought the God of Mischief low! Wonders never cease.

He moves slowly, trying not to tense up as he approaches his pet, and the drowsy repletion of a moment before drains away. Loki manages a small smile; he's a master of deception for many reasons. Carefully he shifts behind Star and kneels, holds the harness open, trying not to look at it. Loki closes his eyes and focuses on the scent of her skin instead, on the sweet pleasure of the earlier part of the afternoon.

Once his pet's feet are within the loops, Loki brings the harness up her shins and thighs to settle it around her hips. He fumbles with the buckles and velcro, murmuring little apologies as he adjusts and tightens it. It's pretty against her pale skin, and the sight of her pert little ass is definitely pleasing, but when his pet turns halfway and shows him her profile, he smiles a little too broadly and pushes away, pushes down the fear.

She wouldn't understand it. She would point out that it's no different than what he's already accommodating at the moment and Loki tries to believe it. He's a god, after all, not a child any more, or a mewling virgin under an unstoppable mounting.

"Fine. Now go fetch the Notyr," is her next order, and Loki moves carefully to obey, though it's obvious the plug is still asserting itself. He brings it back to her, going almost automatically to his knees as she points wordlessly to the floor.

"Better, You are a fast learner, at least," she remarks a little less caustically. "Now, take the Notyr and apply it to our new toy. And I suggest you be very . . . liberal in your application." She shifts slightly, testing the rub of the little bumps against her clit. Hmmm, this has definite potential.

Loki takes a large fingerful of the Notyr as she suggested, applying it all over the toy. His eyes are bent on his task, Star notices. No attempts to flirt or brush up against her, even though his actions are stimulating her anyway thanks to those little protrusions on the base of the toy, and Star has to bite back a tiny moan. Could he actually be nervous? Again, it's surprising to her.

On the other hand, he's already half-hard again.

He's taking his time with the Notyr, so Star finally orders him to stop, and to go bend himself over the edge of the mattress again. Though he is much slower to obey this time, she turns a blind eye in deference to his unease. She picks up her towels and as she glances into the toybox in passing she decides to explore one more thing with him.

A quick grab and she pulls his red and black flogger from the box too, strolling towards him as nonchalantly as she can with a fake cock bobbing in front of her and the soft tails of the whip brushing her leg with every step.

Well, he keeps telling her he likes pain, right?

Loki slowly bends over, doing his best to relax. The damnable problem with fear is that anticipation is wound around it, and that latter sense is hardening his cock against his will. He squeezes his eyes shut and chides himself mentally for his foolishness, reminding himself he is both a jotunn and a prince and above old nightmares; far and above such things as apprehension. His pet is clearly having fun baring her little claws at him, and pleasing her is the entire point of this afternoon anyway. Drawing a breath, he risks a peek at her through the locks of his hair, and the sight of the flogger sends a fresh frisson through him even as he avoids sight of the thick toy rising between her slender hips.

"M-my queen," Loki manages, determined to see it through. "I am very sorry for my lack of obedience."

Her eyebrow raises at that - he's obviously afraid, and she wonders why. Didn't he tell me he did this with Angr-whatshername and enjoyed it? So what gives? Maybe he thinks Star's lack of experience will cause problems, or that she really wants to hurt him? She shakes her head slightly as she sets the Notyr down on the night-table. If he believes that, he hasn't been paying attention. Or maybe I'm that good an actress, to have fooled the legendary Lie-smith? Yeah, right.

Despite her earlier thought, she's not into pain. Oh sure, a little spanking, a little flogging, a bit of strapping . . .anything that doesn't cause black bruises or spills blood, she's fine with that, both giving and receiving, but if he thinks she intends to use him roughly . . .well, he'll see soon enough.

"It's a start," she informs him as she lays the towel aside. "But to earn my complete forgiveness, you'll have to be a good warrior and take your punishment," she continues. Swinging the flogger in a circle, she allows the trailing tips to just brush over the curve of his rear, and he shivers again.

It starts off light, with a blow aimed at each side; his muscles clench and the soft moan he gives after each tells her he's enjoying the fullness of the plug in this situation, despite any reservations he might have. She launches a few strikes at the backs of his thighs and calves, though these are intended more like a kind of massage, than to cause any true sting.

He really moans when she allows the tips of the flogger to smack lightly against the knot covering the base of the plug, and she has to smirk. His length is standing at full attention again, why is she not surprised?

She hits him again in the same sequence, a little harder this time, and then a final round, just slightly harder yet again. He's sweating freely now, his face still covered by his hair, but judging by the noises he's making, he's liking this.

Star steps next to him, winding her fingers into his damp hair as she lets the tails of the whip brush over his aching cock. "I do believe you are enjoying this, my Loki." It's his chance to call time-out or even put an end to things, if he wants.

He nods, not trusting his voice at the moment. Yes, it's oh so good, deeply so on many levels, but despite what his prick is doing, the residual wariness of what may come next still has a grip on him. Loki rolls his jaw a little, feeling achy and a little bit dazed, but determined to see matters through. If his beloved pet desires to take him, then by the gods he will submit himself to her; it's the least he can do for the pleasure he's already enjoyed with her over the last year.

"My queen," Loki manages, his tone soft. "What more do you desire? How else may I pleasure you?"

"Nothing more," she says truthfully. "You're doing an excellent job." She strokes his cheek, his hair, then tosses the flogger on the bed and moves back between his legs, trailing her hand softly along the ridges of his flexing spine as she goes.

"I'm going to take the plug out now," she warns him. "Try to relax, OK?" Star's breaking role, she supposes, but she doesn't really care. At his slow nod, she begins to work on the knots she made earlier. After some work she tosses the cord aside, then reaches for a towel.

Loki is making a visible effort to relax, and the plug is rounded so either way it shouldn't be a problem, but she still tries to withdraw it as slowly as she can. Once it's finally free, he sighs softly, and Star rolls the plug up in the towel and drops it on the floor out of the way. She gently massages his buttocks and upper thighs as she plots the final act.

"I take that back, you WILL need to do one thing for me - you'll need to crouch a little," she admits with a smile, even though he probably can't see it through the inky fall of his hair. "My legs aren't as long as yours."

Loki slowly does, not exactly sure of what his beloved intends. Her tone is very gentle, and that helps unclench his sore muscles. The stinging along his thighs and ass has warmed to a lusciously heated throb and he savors it for a moment; his pet truly has a talent for applying just the right amount of bite to her strokes.

Cautiously he tosses his hair out of the way and looks for her as he bites his lower lip.

At the last minute, Star remembers to spread a towel out beneath Loki - got to compensate for the lack of a clean-up spell! - and then she takes a last scoop of Notyr from the jar, applying it in gentle circles to the tender ring of muscle she's about to breach again. Loki flinches slightly, tensing, but otherwise holds his position. Star wipes her fingers and then takes hold of Loki's hips.

"I'm going to let you drive," she tells him. "So I'm going to stay still, and you're going to back into me. That will allow you to control how deep, and how fast or slow. Whatever feels best to you." It seems the safest and easiest way to make sure she doesn't hurt him or push him too far. Carefully she lines them up, pulling him down just a fraction with a tug of her hands because he's still too damned tall, and then she presses the tip of her artificial cock against the tiny opening, and waits, stroking her fingers along his hipbones.

Loki freezes, looking over his shoulder at his pet in surprise. Her reassuring smile helps a bit, and he manages to relax, fractionally, against the tip of the toy. "Really?" he asks, surprised and at the same time, inwardly grateful. It's difficult to deal with the contradiction of pleasure and tension when it comes to being taken this way, and Loki doesn't want to be difficult about it.

Toys are nice, as are plugs; he's well-aware of what they do for him yes. But having someone, something actually take him is a different matter, an issue of trust and remembered pain. Still, his pet has been marvelous so far, particularly in that last orgasm.

Receiving her little nod, he takes a breath, and reaches back, waiting for her to put her hand in his.

Star blinks, surprised, then takes it, twining her fingers through his warmer ones. She's still not sure what's driving his current anxiety, but she's willing to do anything to help. "Take your time," she urges him, her free hand caressing his side.

For a moment Loki stays still, then he seems to take a deep breath, pushing slowly backwards. Her fingers tighten around his and she has to catch her breath; the pressure against the base of the toy is pushing those soft and wicked little nubs right against her clit.

Though it's difficult, she does her best to hold still. This is for him, after all, and she's not about to break her word. He pauses, then presses back again, and they both gasp in unison as the toy finally bypasses the ring of muscle and slickly enters him.

He tightens his jaw, giving himself time to adjust to the fullness once more, and Loki feels his pet's fingers tighten in his. That reassuring grip helps-more than he wants to admit-and after a minute, he pushes back. Loki's aware of the design of the toy, of the little ticklish bumps on the other side that are now up against his pet.

He smirks down at the duvet, and rolls his hips slowly in a light grind against her, and the low whimper coming from Star is like applause. After that to easier to rock forward and begin a little rhythm now, tiny inches back and forth, nothing fierce or hard. With each one, Loki adds a little twist of his hips, knowing full well that the tiny knob-lettes are teasing his pet's most tender spot.

The sensation of shifting fullness strokes that magic area within him, and Loki feels his prick rise even more, urgently. He reaches down between his thighs, skimming a palm along the underside and shivers with pleasure.

Another soft moan escapes her throat as he teases her, a tingling gathering right where the nubs are rubbing her. "Wicked little prince," she purrs. Always this competition between them to please the other, not that she's complaining. Though it makes it so much more difficult for her to stay still.

Loki's soft moan follows on hers as he moves ever-so-slowly back and forth, though he's having some trouble keeping his balance, his hand tugging on hers and making it still more difficult for Star to keep still. She braces her knees and reaches for the jar of Notyr nearby, scooping up a small amount.

"Allow me," she says, brushing his hand away from his aching length and applying the Notyr to his heated shaft, slickening the way for her strokes.

With a gasp, he drops his hand back to the mattress to steady himself once more, his other hand squeezing hers a little uncomfortably as she slowly caresses him, trying to time her strokes in tandem with his rocking motions. Her breath catches in her throat as the little knobs catch at her again, pleasure spiking deep inside her, and her hand closes tighter around his rigid flesh.

Loki shifts, concentrating, working in the smallest of circles, caught between the touch of his pet-and what a touch, so perfect!-and making the effort to push back enough to caress her as well. The comfort of her fingers helps even though little splinters of memory prickle him but his body is responding with or without his brain. Now it's all a matter of timing, and given that he's already enjoyed release, Loki knows he can delay until his pet has had her pleasure.

He stretches his chin forward, feeling the tight heat begin in his belly, savoring it and fighting it at the same time. This will be close . . .

Loki is doing this deliberately, she's sure of it. This moving back against her, circling . . . The little nubs tickle and tease, and her toes curl into the thick carpet as she struggles to stay still, squeezing his fingers more tightly to anchor herself.

She wants to let it all go, but she doesn't want to forget herself and hurt him, either. She pants through gritted teeth, the blood singing in her ears. Just a little more, she's so very close now-

Inspiration leads her to release his cock, just long enough to wrap her hand around the base of the toy and rub the base a little harder and longer against herself. She tries to hold still otherwise, her fingers gripping his hand tightly. A climax, smaller than before but just as satisfying, rolls over her at last in a warm wave.

How do men do this? she asks herself a few moments later, blinking fast and trying to maintain her balance as her knees threaten to give out on her. "Are- are you OK? I didn't hurt you when I-?" she reaches again to stroke him, gently tracing the veins on his shaft though her fingers are shaking.

It's just the touch he needs, craves, and Loki arches himself against her fingers, feeling the honeyed pleasure of spilling himself out in slow, sweet thrusts. He shudders lightly, groans rising out of his throat, and when the last of it is done, it takes true concentration to not simply slide off of his pet and topple over.

Loki feels light; relaxed. He gives a last shake of his head and squeeze of Star's hand before letting go and shifting his knees. He chuckles deeply. "Ohhhh yes, now that was incandescent!"

Star laughs. "So glad you enjoyed it, ice prince. I'm going to pull out now, OK?" At his nod, she withdraws slowly, eliciting a last shiver of pleasure from him as the toy slips free.

She wipes them down with the towels - they can always shower later - and strips off the harness and her lingerie. Loki catches her by the wrist and pulls her onto the bed with him once the last stocking is off, as if he's afraid she'll disappear if he takes his eyes off her.

He rolls half on top of Star, his weight compressing her lungs and his arms enclosing her. After a moment she works a hand free and strokes a fingertip across the golden chain he's still wearing, then weaves her fingers into his damp hair. Responding to his mood, she murmurs, "I'm not going anywhere."

"Good," he murmurs sleepily, "thank you." The warmth and scent of her comfort Loki, and he nuzzles her shoulder, feeling that delicious post-coital lassitude coming on. Before he lets it overwhelm them both though, he adds, "You are amazing. I crave you like a drug; I find myself constantly amazed at your erotic strength, my jewel. You are indeed a worthy consort."

She snorts a little at this, and Loki recognizes it as her way of dealing with compliments. He smiles against her skin and whispers, "In fact, I would reward you with a crown of chocolate if it was in my capacity to do so. Alas, we must settle for visiting a little shop I know of around the corner instead, but first, rest." He keeps her close, and they doze.