The Dark Asgard Chronicles is a collection of stories that presents an alternative to the benevolent Asgard documented in the Marvel Cinematic Universe. Inspired by the Gor Chronicles by John Norman, an upside down Asgard exists where morals are subjective and traits like greed and hedonism thrive. In this tale, Asgard is the most powerful of The Nine Realms and controls the slave trade throughout. Mangling the Fowls is the first book in the series and introduces the reader to the slave society and the underhanded schemes the royal family has embarked on to ensure the right son sits on the throne of Asgard.
The darkness consumed them, and they were finally free...
Mangling the Fowls is the first story in The Dark Asgardian Chronicles and introduces the reader to the slave society and the underhanded schemes the royal family has embarked on to ensure the right son sits on the throne of Asgard. The story is mostly Loki-centric but other characters from the Thor movies receive attention as well. The underlying theme of the story is that we are all slaves to something.
Pairings: Thor/Loki, Thor/OC, Loki/Valkyrie, Loki/OC, Frigga/Odin, Frigga/OC
This is a non-canon story.
This story contains characters ages 14 and up in graphic sexual situations.
Chapter 1 is just an introduction to bring the reader into the story. The reader will be introduced to the slave society and see how it runs. They will also be introduced to the tug-of-war dance between Loki and Valkyrie.
Tags: devotion, confrontation, drama, no sex, dirty talk, love, verbal abuse, sadism, masochism, unrequited, obsession, emotional/psychological abuse
Mornings on Asgard were still with its people snug beneath their covers, breathing soft snores. The dawn settled, spread its soft dew, and lifted the fresh scent of moisture into the air. An amethyst sky blanketed the planet with the majestic golden palace set aglow against it like a beacon for all.
Centered in the middle of Asgard, the palace appeared from all angles as a reminder to the Asgardians of the royal family's might. The center cylinder of the palace rose high with the others falling in succession like a pipe organ. Nothing was higher than the royal family except the sun. The sun began climbing toward its position in the sky, blessing all with its miraculous warmth and awesome glow.
Once the sun reached its pinnacle in the sky, alarms rang in slave chambers throughout the land, stirring slaves from their bedrolls. Once freshening themselves, slaves bustled about homes, started morning meals, and awoke their masters from sleep.
The number of slaves in Asgard was inestimable and as the leading authority of the slave trade throughout The Nine Realms, Asgard controlled the flow and price of slaves. Every wealthy household had at least one slave with the royal family owning the most. Asgardians believed the royals owned at least one hundred thousand slaves with some overactive imaginations putting the number at five hundred thousand.
Rising in the morning with the rest of Asgard, the Jotun blood adopted prince stood in his immense chambers, allowing his slave to dress him. Cedalore entered adulthood at eighteen years a few months ago and had been serving the prince since her adolescent years. The prince chose her for his hand slave due to her modest nature.
Pulling the prince's black leather vest onto him and fastening it, Cedalore stepped back and dipped her head in respect.
"I am done, my Lord Prince Loki. You look as handsome as ever," Cedalore complimented.
"Let me be the judge of that," the prince said with his slippery smooth silk drenched voice slithering from his lips as he pushed the girl to the side and stood in the mirror.
Inspecting his image, the long bodied, slender prince viewed his majestic and elegant self. Cedalore dressed Loki well in black pants, black boots with gold fastenings, the vest which had a long skirt, and a lightweight long sleeve green shirt. As he took his time examining himself in the mirror, she held her breath.
Loki was neither beautiful nor ugly. Handsome (he could be); good looking (he might be), but he exuded immense aristocratic charisma and sex appeal. Cedalore enjoyed the features of his face, which, to her, were fine, elegant, and perfect like a doll maker's mold. She wanted him to take her as one of his pleasure slaves, but there was a certain kind of woman he liked to serve him in bed, and she was unqualified. She was plain, skinny, and dull. One occasion, the prince remarked that she was uninteresting like a blank canvas haunting an artist's blocked mind.
"Hmmm…" Humming at his image, the prince pressed his thin snake lips together and ran his fingers through the long, fine, and inky strands streaming down his shoulders. "Good job."
Cedalore beamed and curtsied, saying, "Thank you, my Lord Prince Loki."
Shrill cries of pain filled the chambers, emitting from a door. Loki smirked at Cedalore's cringing shoulders. The bed chamber belonged to his best boy, Geirwyn, who was a sadomasochistic savage beast. At that moment, Geirwyn was disciplining one of Loki's pleasure girls. Discovered entangled in lust with his brother's man slave, Loki wanted her punished to ensure she returned her devotion to him and Geirwyn was doing a thorough job.
"That's right, girl," Loki spoke in a quiet chiseling tone as he leaned close to Cedalore, "let those cries of your slave sister be a reminder that your little snatch belongs to me and only me, though yours isn't worth being used. Plowing around in that hole would be as fun as sticking my dick in a drainage pipe. Would you even know what to do with it? You couldn't please a man if your life depended on it. I dare say, you'll always be a virgin."
As Loki placed her beneath his other slaves, Cedalore distanced herself from them and considered none to be her slave brother or sister.
"Yes, my Lord Prince Loki," Cedalore replied to Loki's scalding words in her natural obedient tone though they stung like a poisonous arrow shot through her heart.
"How does that make you feel?" The prince continued his taunts of the girl as he enjoyed causing pain, both physical and emotional.
Cedalore inhaled and measured her words like a smart slave.
Parting her lips, Cedalore said, "It makes me feel like I am not worthy to be in your presence, my Lord Prince Loki. I shall try to please you in all the other ways that I can by being your hand slave."
"Good girl," Loki patronized, patting her mousy brown hair. Leaving her hair, his hand grasped her chin, tilting her head back.
The girl's eyes were a dull stale blue without any spark or passion. Trained well, the girl faced Loki but avoided his eyes. Cedalore wanted to gaze into his striking sea glass blue eyes that she glimpsed while standing across a chamber.
Sneering, Loki let Cedalore's chin drop and moved to the door. Scurrying to the door, she opened and held it as the regal man stepped through. Dutiful, she followed him. As personal attendants to a master, hand slaves accompanied them every moment of their day. Slaves trailed masters, begging forgiveness and permission to pass when needed. Hand slaves followed their master at a respectful distance of six feet. This distance kept them from earshot of a master's conversation if he was walking with someone.
The palace consisted of three sections. The west wing, the center, and the east wing. Loki occupied the west wing, Thor the east, and their parents the center. Other minor parts of the palace included the dungeon, the kennels, the stables, mills, tavern, kitchen, garden, etcetera.
Walking along the golden corridor of his wing, Loki arrived at his slave chambers. At times he liked to watch his slaves bustle about. Stepping through the door after Cedalore opened it, he entered the mess hall. Split down the middle by a green runner, the chamber separated the slaves with one side for the males and the other for the females. He prized males over females, having thirteen females and thirty-seven males.
Entering a door, Loki stepped into the female slave quarters. The slave mother, Berdaita, was pouring purple Cycle Wine into small wooden cups sitting on a cart. Cedalore had her Cycle Wine before the other girls as hand slaves needed to rise earlier than pleasure slaves.
Cycle Wine was a contraceptive given to all female slaves. Given on the first day of every month, Cycle Wine worked for thirty days. Breeder and elderly slaves were exempt from Cycle Wine.
Berdaita was an elderly woman and had been nanny and hand slave to Loki's mother. She became the nanny to Loki and Thor when they were infants. Loki favored her and when he began his own slave chains, he put her in charge of his girls.
"Good morning, Prince Loki." Berdaita greeted the prince with a smile.
"Good morning to you, nana." Loki smiled with warmth and kissed the woman's wrinkled forehead.
Slaves earned leniency with their masters if they kept a streak of good merit.
"How are my girls doing?" Loki asked, rubbing Berdaita's slumped shoulders with a gentle hand.
"They are fine and lovely as ever," Berdaita replied. "Jozziettay sold an afghan at the market for three silver pieces."
"Amazing," he remarked. "Her craftsmanship is improving. I shall have her make one so that I can snug her tight in my arms at night."
Berdaita's eyes blazed and the wrinkles at the corners of her eyes crinkled as she smiled.
"Shall I have her start on it right away?" Berdaita asked.
"It would please me if you did," Loki replied.
"Very well."
Slaves who proved themselves worthy could explore their intelligence and creativity in their spare time, though different genders had the privilege of different activities. If a slave produced something outstanding, they took it to market. Any profit the slave received for their product was theirs to keep. Most girls purchased candy, pastries, and hair adornments with their money, while the males purchased a good cut of meat, mead, and ale. Slaves who earned an income kept their earnings with them or in a hidden place inside their sleeping area for fear another might take it.
"It is time for me to awake them, my Prince," Berdaita informed, teetering to the table that held the hanging cymbal.
"Please carry on, Berdaita. Awake my lovelies." Loki grinned, gazing to the two higher levels dotted with alcoves covered with green curtains.
Berdaita banged a mallet against the cymbal three times. Little hands tugged curtains open and stunning girls scurried from their alcoves in short silk green sleeveless sheaths. The girls shimmied along the ladders to the floor and stretched, rubbing the night's grime from their eyes. Once alert to their master's presence, the girls formed a line and approached him one at a time.
"Good morning, my Lord Prince Loki," they greeted him with respect and the bow of their heads.
After greeting their master, the girls moved to the cart, retrieved a cup of Cycle Wine, drank it, and left for the slave bath.
After the last girl left the chamber, Loki followed with Cedalore in tow. As was her duty, she remained silent, invisible, and ready to serve when needed.
Entering the slave bath, the girls shed their sheaths and discarded them in hampers. The bustling girls were nude except the slave markings on their outside ankle. Slave markings made it known a person was a slave and noted who owned them. Loki's symbol was two dragons intertwined forming a S and biting their tails with an intricate pattern on their long bodies. A healer's lock of glowing blue Asgardian words circled the symbol. The lock prevented the scarring or removal of the slave marking by anyone except a healer.
Taking a seat on a stone bench while Cedalore stood in a corner, Loki's eyes devoured his girls, each prettier than the next. Their skin tones ranged in color from midnight ebony to polar white, their hair from coal black, to chocolate brown, to fiery red, to golden tinsel in color, and from kinky, to coils, to curly, to wavy, to straight in texture. He loved them all.
"My Lord Prince Loki, will you come bathe with us?" The minxes implored.
The prince chuckled with a soft air, issued a snickering smile to the girls and replied, "No, my darlings. Please just entertain your prince by tending to your hygiene and that will be all."
The girls displayed cute pouts and whimpered like pleading pets.
Titillated, Loki laughed, saying, "Perhaps when I take my evening bath, I'll have all of you join me."
The girls' faces brightened, and they squealed. Scurrying into the large bath, they began soaping their bodies with ambrosial lavender soap.
All baths in the palace were constructed the same with water cycling a filtration system. Clean water cascaded from an opening in the wall and dirty water drained out a grate in the bottom of the bath.
Loki's hungry eyes continued to devour his girls. Lifting a hand, he signaled for Cedalore to approach with the flick of a finger.
Dutiful, Cedalore moved to Loki's side and asked, "Yes, my Lord Prince Loki? How may I be of service?"
Loki lifted his feet and pointed toward the floor. Cedalore knelt beneath his feet, allowing him to use her as a foot stool.
Once the girls shed the night's grime, they exited the bath and padded to the shelves. They grabbed towels, lavender scented oils and creams, brushes and combs, and tooth care products tending to their beauty. Once dry and fresh, the girls dressed in their slave tunics. Loki's slaves wore green tunics trimmed in black with a gold sash tied around their waists.
During the warm months slave tunics were short sleeved, V necked, and fell to mid-thigh. Small slits on the side and sleeves kept them from being restrictive when slaves performed duties. Desiring easy access to their slaves, masters disallowed wearing undershorts. Masters gave female breeders undershorts and sanitary cloths during their menstrual cycles. Sewn into female tunics, bralettes supported their breasts. Masters disallowed slaves wearing shoes. Elderly slaves wore long tunics, undershorts, and shoes whenever they pleased.
Following his luscious beasts into the mess hall, Loki moved to the dais at the end of the chamber, climbed the three steps, and sat on his throne. The throne was pleasant and comfortable but was less impressive compared to the majestic one in his pleasure chamber or Odin's in the grand hall. Cedalore took position to Loki's side in silent obedience.
The male slaves entered clean and dressed like their slave sisters. Loki's male slaves resembled his girls with their various skin tones, and hair textures and colors. He preferred girls with petite and curvy bodies, and boys with long and slender bodies.
The mess hall bustled with chatter, slaves talking among their gender and taking care to keep their eyes off the opposite sex in front of their master.
The door leading into the mess hall opened and labor slaves rolled in two carts with food. Taking position at the front of the chamber, the slaves began serving the morning meal.
Slaves ate the same thing at every meal unless the master favored them. Daily meals consisted of gruel made of oats and grains swept from mill floors with dried and ground fruit and vegetable waste like stems, leaves, skins, and seeds. Slices of stale bread and a square of loaf meat made from offal and the less desirable parts of meat went with the gruel. During the morning they had tea sans milk, cream, honey, or sugar, in the afternoon they had milk, and in the evening, they had water. Female slaves could have one extra bowl of gruel and two extra squares of meat per day. Male slaves could have three extra bowls of gruel, six extra squares of meat, and one extra slice of bread per day. All slaves could have unlimited amounts of tea, milk, and water. The difference of the extra food quantities kept slaves at their ideal weight as females needed less calories than males. Disallowed chairs, the young slaves sat on the floor as they ate their meal. Elderly slaves had the privilege of sitting in chairs.
Loki's eyes moved from his females to his males, pondering which he wanted to satisfy him that night. He told his girls he would have them all, but he was a master, and it was his prerogative to change his mind when he wished. He might curl up with a book until he fell into slumber.
"My Lord Prince Loki," Cedalore spoke, "do you think it is time you should have your morning meal?"
"Yes, I suppose I should," Loki agreed, standing.
Leaving his wing, Loki passed the two guards stationed by his area. Guards were stationed throughout his wing. The main reason for the patrol was to prevent slaves from escaping. Walking the corridors, he passed palace staff, guards, and slaves either going to complete tasks or doing them.
Entering the dining hall, Loki waited for Cedalore to announce him.
"The Lord Prince Loki, God of Mischief," Cedalore announced with her voice squeaking as she forced it high.
"Always the last to make an entrance," Frigga said, beaming at her favorite son.
"You kept us waiting!" Odin barked. "What were you doing?"
"We should have begun without him," Thor groused, ready to eat.
A flippant smirk slid across Loki's lips. He sat beside his mother with his eyes roving from his brother to father, both with a patch covering one eye.
"I was rubbing one out," Loki spoke in a brazen manner.
Frigga pursed her lips and shook a scolding head at Loki.
"Have you any decency?" Odin snarled. "Don't speak in such a way in front of your mother."
"Have I any decency?" Loki remarked, taken aback. "Thor is about to shove food in his mouth before you even make your announcements."
Odin slapped the chicken leg from Thor's hand, saying, "You haven't even had your hand slave taste it yet."
"Well, I'm hungry," Thor grumbled with his stomach chiming in with a growl.
"Only a fool will let hunger tempt his death," Odin continued to scold.
"Well, he is a fool," Loki remarked.
"Gentlemen." Frigga used a stern tone. "Please let us have an enjoyable meal."
The three settled at the queen's request.
Loki's eyes roamed the dining hall, moving across the nobles, the officials, and The Warriors Three to the Valkyries' table, where they fell to the stern, proud, and rigid Brunnhilde. She was the epitome of a Valkyrie and was called that with fondness instead of by her name. Asgardians stated she was the soul, blood, and backbone of the cavalry, believing she had exceeded her duties as general.
Loki enjoyed having slave girls at his disposal, but nothing thrilled the prince like a strong fierce free woman. As a rule, females on Asgard were submissive to men, except those of noble blood and the healing profession. Revered and prized as the bearers of the next generation of Asgard's ruling caste, men treated noble women like gold.
Valkyries had to be of noble blood and female. Given as offerings to the king, some girls left their families at six-years-old. Loki was thrilled Valkyries pledged their lives to the crown and took an oath of celibacy to ensure their fidelity. All girls given to the crown had to have their virginity intact. The healers administered each girl Purity Potion to detect if they were virgins. Nothing happened if they were pure, but if they were impure, they vomited.
Gazing across the dining hall at the brown sugar hued and dark-haired beauty, Loki's groin tingled. Unlike the other Valkyries who don flowy dresses hiding their daggers when off duty, Valkyrie wore snug tights, boots, a flowing top, and a vest with her sheathed blade and daggers displayed. Loki was thankful for her attire accentuating her gorgeous figure.
The dining hall erupted in cheers and applause, tearing Loki from his thoughts, and startling him. Odin had ended the morning announcements and toast. Loki ignored his father's mealtime speeches all the time. Odin was a windbag and spoke in a slow tedious manner. Once Odin returned his plump figure to his chair, all gathered tore into the delicacies lying before them.
Cedalore sampled the food on the table and sipped the wine for poison. Attempts at murder was usual for the royals with a considerable sum orchestrated by the four family members.
Cedalore remained standing and healthy. Satisfied, Loki waved a hand, allowing her to fix him a meal. As a tall man, he did have a good appetite, but was unlike his hoggish and brutish brother, who was a glutton.
Grunting and snorting reached Loki's ears. His eyes moved pass Frigga and Odin to Thor, gorging like a swine at a trough. He was amazed Thor was the biological son of their parents. It was a blessing being an adopted child.
"Mother how does the day find you," Loki asked.
After slicing his chicken breast, Loki drove a piece into his mouth.
"Pleasantly, my dear boy." Frigga spoke with affection, stroking a hand along her son's smooth neck, doting on him. "Some pleasant news came in this morning from the slavers."
"I am thoroughly intrigued, mother," Loki replied, requesting for her to continue.
"They might have found a gathering of your most delicious morsels on the desolate moon, Arkar," his mother related.
Swallowing the food in his mouth, Loki lowered his utensils. Frigga had his full attention.
"Mother do not dangle the carrot. Please tell me what I think you are alluding to," Loki pressed.
A gleaming grin was plastered across Frigga's face as she said, "Dark Elves."
"Mmmm…" He took a deep inhale. "My passion. Sweet morsels indeed. Morsels whose flesh I can tease and taunt and sup on all night."
"That's enough, dear," she said, waving a hand. "TMI."
Amused, Loki laughed at his mother using a Midgardian phrase for his overshare.
"Let's hope there are some boys for you." Frigga patted Loki's hand, happy he was satisfied.
"Yes, some boys as well as some girls who haven't sterilized themselves so we can put them in the breeding program," Loki added.
"Yes, that will be wonderful," she agreed. "That reminds me, the healers have been working on a way to combat slave self-sterilization."
"Remarkable," he praised and returned to his meal. "The healers are the brightest minds in Asgard."
"Well, they are women," she gloated and stroked his neck before tending to her own meal.
Endeared, Loki smirked at his gender proud mother and her gentle hand stroking him. He was in the process of thrusting a fork full of vegetables into his mouth when Valkyrie finished her meal and exited the dining hall. Discarding the fork, he wiped his mouth with a napkin and stood with haste, catching himself before bumping into Cedalore.
"Loki you haven't finished your meal," Frigga said with concern.
"Oh, I've had enough," Loki replied in a rush.
"Pass it to me," Thor said, sucking chicken juice from his fingers.
"Real classy, brother," Loki affronted.
Hurrying from the dining hall with Cedalore trailing him, Loki raced along the corridor after Valkyrie who vanished around a corner. Rushing around the corner after Valkyrie, he halted as the cool steel of a dagger pressed to his taut throat.
"Perhaps you will die today, my Lord," Valkyrie threatened, holding the dagger firm.
"Perhaps today you'll stop your teasing and give into my yearnings to tease your body to the deepest hours of night," Loki replied, pushing the dagger from his throat with his index finger.
Cedalore remained calm at the sight of the dagger. She was used to these interactions between her master and Valkyrie.
"You know, they say Thor is the daft one, but why is it that I feel it's you?" Valkyrie voiced, keeping her dagger pointed at Loki.
Loki lighted in a tickled laugh, saying, "If that came from any other woman's lips, I'd be offended, but knowing that you mask your true love for me with your disdainful words only make me want you more."
"Leave me be, weasel," she dismissed him, sheathing her dagger.
Valkyrie continued along the corridor.
Following, Loki walked alongside her, saying, "Please allow me to escort you to my chambers so I can steal your flower. I'm sure it will taste so sweet when it burst with sap."
Valkyrie kept walking. Loki's lascivious poetry would stir a weaker Valkyrie from her vows, but she was strong in her faith.
"I promise I'll be gentle," Loki continued in his smooth tone. "I assure you I am skilled in deflowering virgins and would ease in gently with tender strokes. Hmmm…well, on the other hand, I think you're much more of the kinkster and would love to have my big dick rip that tight cunny apart with jagged thrusts."
As the glorious filth rolled from the silver tongue, Valkyrie closed her eyes and tried to control her anger. Loki plucked her chords like a skilled violinist, and whenever she gave in and clobbered him, it was feeding into his insatiable need to demand her attention. Using swift dexterity, she smashed the palm of her hand into his nose sending his head back and blood streaming down his lips.
Loki clamped his hand over his seeping nose and tried to keep his eyes from smarting, but it was proving hard. Exquisite shards of pain shot across his face and rushed throughout his nerves, prompting his arousal.
Dragging the back of his hand beneath his nose, wiping the blood, Loki peered at Valkyrie with lust filled hooded eyes.
"Mmmm…don't taunt me, darling," Loki egged Valkyrie. "Give me more of that fire. Don't be a cock tease."
"Go away or I'll hit you again and this time I'll smash your sinus bones into your brain to kill you," Valkyrie advised with weight.
"Promises?" He taunted as she left.
That was enough of Loki's torment for the morning. There were plenty of hours left in the day for more of his wanton taunts.
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