Disclaimer: I don't own Marvel, Elder Scrolls, Mass Effect, Dragon Age, Final Fantasy, Harry Potter, or anything else that finds its way into these pages. No disrespect intended, only homage, no profit made, only entertainment intended. If you're a fan, read it, if you don't like it, stop reading. Simple as pie.

Rating: M for Mature. EXTRA MmY THIS CHAPTER!

Spoilers: MANY

Chapter Ten: Hostage

Let me crawl inside your veins.

I'll build a wall, give you a ball and chain.

It's not like me to be so mean. You're all I wanted.

Just let me hold you. Hold you.

Like a hostage. Like a hostage.

- "Hostage," by Billie Eilish

When Loki opened his eyes he found himself bound by his wrists hanging naked from a chain from the ceiling of what looked like the cargo hold of an elderly spaceship. His head swum and he couldn't remember what happened to him. A hatch groaned open and a small troop of people entered.

"Ah, he wakes."

The voice was smooth. Husky. Feminine. A beautiful Vanir woman stepped into view, taking her time. Three rough pirates attended her, keeping a short distance behind her. She was not dressed rough. Indeed, she wore the sort of clothes an Asgardian noblewoman might wear if inclined to sport: a fine green bustier, a short matching skirt, green tights, tall green boots, and a green tiara marking her as someone of importance and wealth. She had golden hair and green eyes, and very pale skin.

"Oh, yes, he is a pretty one," she said, eyeing Loki up and down. "I'm inclined to keep him for my private collection. Well done, boys."

"Thank you, Enchantress," the men said as one, and bowed and backed away.

"Oh yes, very nice," the woman said, stepping a little bit closer to Loki. "A pretty Vanir boy built like Prince Freyr but wearing Asgardian armor? What a prize! Whether I keep you or sell you I've made out well today."

Loki did not have the same strength as Thor, but he was still extremely strong, even by Asgardian standards. Even as exhausted as he was he still had some fight left in him. He twisted his lean body and lashed out with his legs. He should have connected in a hard kick, but she somehow managed to dodge him.

"Temper temper, pretty one," she purred. "We need to do something about all that anger you're feeling. It's not good for you, no, no, not at all."

She sashayed back up to him, kissing close. He tried to lash out again but his exhausted body would not comply. A slow smile curled her lips and she leaned in to plant a deep kiss on his mouth, her tongue sliding inside to plunder while he hung limp with shock at the flood of thoughts, feelings, and memories that assailed him. And worse. Some force, some power in her kiss that made all that sickness in her mind and thoughts seem… attractive. Desirable. The longer the kiss went on, the more he wanted her, and the more he wanted to do anything and everything she wanted him to do.

By the time she finally pulled back, he was a quivering mess. His penis was fully erect for the first time while he was awake, if you could call this dreamlike state he was in "awake." He had a very large penis, an inheritance from that Vanir prince the woman made reference to. Prince Freyr of Vanaheim was Loki's uncle, and was known for having the largest penis of any Nord anywhere. Vanir were generally much earthier and more sexual than Aesir and took pride in it. Loki's wasn't as big as Freyr's was said to be (so big it wouldn't stand erect by itself and had to be held up by two female assistants) but it was very much larger than the average Nord penis just the same, which was saying something.

"Oh, you are… something," the woman said. "Yes, I think I will keep you all to myself, lovely one."

"Thank you, mistress," he said. His voice came out in a whine. Some part of his mind heard the words he was saying and was appalled, but he couldn't stop himself from saying it.

She smiled again, a predatory smile. "My name is Amora, but my friends just call me… Enchantress," she said.

"Yes, Enchantress," he said. He was breathless, panting, eager.

She reached up and grasped the lock of his chains. "I'm going to set you free now, all right, precious one? And you're going to do everything just the way I want, aren't you?"

"Yes, Enchantress."

"Good. Now come to me." She broke the lock with a twist of her wrist and he dropped to his feet. He put his arms around her shoulders and kissed her as though he'd kissed a thousand women, a practiced kiss of infinite passion and desire, but he was so tired, and after a moment he sagged against her.

"Oh, poor boy, you're so weary. It's important you regain your strength. You're going to need it. Come with me, pretty one. Come with Enchantress."

She reached behind herself without looking, and one of the servile men placed something in her hand. It was a collar and leash. She fastened the collar around Loki's neck and led him onward with the leash, but she did not have to pull, he followed willingly. She brought him to a spacious cabin which, by decoration, was probably her own, and pushed him down on the bed.

"Rest, pretty boy. Gain your strength. There will be time for fun and games when you waken."

Loki didn't want to sleep, he wanted fun and games. But he recognized that he wouldn't be much good for her as he was now, so he did as she demanded and immediately went to sleep.

When he woke he was horrified at the memories in his mind. And he actually desired the sick bitch to whom they belonged for even a short while? He jumped out of bed and attacked her where she stood by the vanity, watching him.

He was fast, but somehow she was faster, seeming to float through the motions of dodging and responding. Instead of counterattacking, however, her response was to grab tight hold of him and plant a kiss on him.

"Nuh uh uh, pretty boy. Fight me as you will, you won't get away so easily," she whispered in his ear as her power took hold of him again. Again, he was flooded with desire for her. And deep inside himself, a hostage part of his mind that remained sane screamed in horror as it watched him losing control.

It was not a gradual degradation. The Enchantress brought him down to her revolting level immediately, putting him to vices he never knew existed. If there was a sexual fetish for anything she seemed to have it, and she wanted him to perform it with her or for her. Bondage and sadism became his daily reality. She liked to inflict pain on her "lovers," and she liked to watch her "lovers" inflict pain on others. Loki experienced a great deal of pain and willingly inflicted a great deal more on other people at her behest. She made him her "breaker," using him to repeatedly rape new slaves so they'd be properly dispirited for the black market. Some of them were children. If he became sane enough to fight her she merely kissed him again and he did whatever she asked of him. The time between these subjugating kisses became longer and longer as the months went by. But Loki was smart, and when the panic in his heart died down enough to allow him to think critically he managed to come up with something of a plan.

He was her captive for eight months at that point, a little more. Asgardian months, so over eight hundred thousand years in Earth terms. He felt the panic rise in his breast as her power lost its grip on him, but instead of reacting, he kept his cool and went on with the horrible thing he was in the middle of doing. It was easy enough, since he was currently being flagellated by the Enchantress and had little active part to play other than to scream loudly enough for her to enjoy it. When she was done inflicting pain on him she had sex with him, and he went along with that to the best of his ability, though it turned his stomach to touch her. What he very carefully did not do was kiss her, and fortunately she did not bother to kiss him. Then, when she was finished with him, he returned to his pile of pillows in the corner and curled up to pretend to sleep. When the time was right, he set an illusion of himself asleep in the bed and covered himself with a cloak of invisibility. Cursing his weakness, he left the ship and leaped to the surface of Vanaheim far below without making any effort to save anyone else aboard. For all his power, he was simply too frightened to try.