I have no idea what I'm doing

Category: oneshots

Sins of the Flesh

Sins of the Flesh (7,727 words) by LokiOfSassgaard

Chapters: 1
Fandom: Thor
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Pairings: Loki/Tentacles
Characters: Loki
Additional Tags: tentacles, alien impregnation, resistance decay, intersex!Loki

Summary: Loki finds a new pet.

And then the new pet finds Loki

“Loki, what is that?”

Loki looked down to where Thor was pointing, having to twist in the saddle to see his own ankle.  With a startled cry of disgust, Loki pulled his foot out of the stirrup and carefully tried to twist and bend himself to get a better look at whatever the thing on his boot was.  It was small and black, amorphous and fluid like congealed fat.  Grimacing, Loki pulled his knife from his belt and used it to scrape the thing from his boot.  Able to sit more steadily on the saddle as they rode slowly through the forest, Loki let his mare do the driving while he inspected the thing on his knife.  Whatever it was, it seemed alive, though only in the same way a mushroom or mould is alive.  He didn’t dare let his face get too close to it, but he also did not want to throw it back to the ground when it was something brand new he had never seen before.

“Thor, get into my bag back there, would you?  Find a jar,” he said, glancing behind him to the bag attached to the back of his saddle.

Thor steered his horse closer to Loki’s, quickly digging through the bag.

“Is this piss?” Thor asked, pulling out a small jar with amber liquid inside.

Loki glanced back at it and shook his head.  “No, but you can pour it,” he said.

With a low grunt, Thor pulled the heavy cork from the jar and dumped its contents onto the trail.  After a moment, he sighed heavily and used his tunic to dry out the jar as much as possible before holding it out.  Loki scraped his knife against the mouth of the jar, letting the black slime fall into it.  He expected to have to scrape and smear his blade more than once, but the whole thing slid off easily, leaving not a single trace behind.

“You have the worst pets,” Thor said as he crammed the cork back into place.

Loki laughed as he took the jar from Thor.  He tapped against the glass with his knife, before replacing it to its spot on his belt.  Rather than handing the jar back, Loki stuffed it into a smaller bag near his knee and rode to catch back up with the others.

Loki had forgotten all about the strange thing from his boot until he began unpacking his bags after their return to Asgard.  As he pulled the jar from the bag, he expected to find something very dead at the bottom.  But to his surprise, it seemed to still live, just as nebulous and without form as before.  He held the jar up close to his face to watch as it moved, as though something inside it were trying to escape.  It seemed almost to roll as it moved along the bottom of the jar, with a dozen small, stubby arms reaching out to pull itself along.

Eager to figure out more, he set the jar aside and quickly finished unpacking.  As he worked, he couldn’t shake the feeling being watched.  When he finally returned to the thing in the jar, he peered in at it again, wondering if he should dare release the cork.  Suddenly, the thing jumped toward Loki’s face, spreading itself against the glass.  With a startled yelp, Loki dropped the jar.  He swore as it shattered on the stone floor, and as he bent to clean the mess, he noticed the thing inside was gone.

“Bloody hel,” he said, carefully picking through the pieces to be sure he hadn’t simply overlooked it.

But it wasn’t there.  He searched around under his desk and in the dark spaces where the wall met the floor, but the thing had vanished.  Not wanting to deal with the hassle of calling in a servant to clean the mess, Loki took care of it himself, carefully sweeping all of the broken glass into the fire pit.  Too irritated and tired to get into anything new now that the experiment he wanted to do had seemingly evaporated, Loki changed out of his riding gear and made his way to the great hall to see what he could gather for supper.  The trip had been a short one, but tiresome, as diplomatic trips often were, and Loki had little patience for embellished tales that he knew were clearly untrue.  He lingered just long enough to eat before returning to his chambers.  As soon as he was behind closed doors, Loki began to strip for bed, kicking his boots off at the door and tossing his clothes aside onto sofas and chairs as he passed.  He was naked by the time he entered his bedchamber, and immediately fell into bed, barely taking the time to get under the blankets.

He woke at the sensation of something crawling along the top of his foot, and kicked it off as his gaze drifted toward the window.  The sky was dark, and the gardens below silent, which only irritated him.  He rolled onto his side and closed his eyes to go back to sleep, but again the tickle along his foot returned.  He kicked out violently, trying to tell whichever insect had dared wake him that it should not come back.  After waiting for a long moment to see if it would return, and finding himself left unbothered, Loki drifted off to sleep again.  But he seemed to only be asleep for mere seconds before once more, the tickle was back.  Once more Loki kicked it away, but this time it did not retreat.  Instead, something gripped tightly at his ankle, sending a shock through Loki that woke him instantly.  He sat up, trying to peer through the darkness, but saw nothing.  That didn’t matter, though.  He could feel the grip around his ankle growing tighter by the second, pulling him as he tried to free himself.

Loki leaned forward, reaching for whatever held him.  His fingers dug into something that was soft and supple, pliant beneath his grip but too strong for him to pull it away.  It held on tightly, squeezing until he could feel his bones grinding against one another.  Then, his wrist was caught in the same grip, squeezing and pulling his hand away.  Loki gasped out, forgetting all about his foot and moving to free his hand instead.  He couldn’t see anything in the darkness as he struggled against the grip squeezing his flesh.  The same grip took his other wrist, pulling his arms wide and baring his chest.  As he was forced onto his back, Loki continued to fight and thrash, kicking wildly with his one free leg.

“Get off of me,” he said through clenched teeth.  “Unhand me this instant.”

He was pulled flat onto his back, his arms splayed wide as something wrapped over his chest to hold him down.  His other foot was gripped as well, and his legs pulled apart.

“Oh, hel,” he said, struggling to keep his legs closed as a rising dread consumed him.

As he fought, something snaked around his belly, drawing a trail over his flesh.  All he could see was a dark shadow around him, rising and growing to block out the dim light from the windows.  The tendril on his belly was met with another squeezing around his chest.  Then, he could feel more on this thighs, squeezing tightly to pull him open.  As he fought hard against it, he could feel something looming close to his face; something he couldn’t see, but sense.  The same pliant tendrils that gripped his body trailed up his neck and over his face, probing him with their tips.  One found his mouth and tried to force its way inside, but Loki bit down on it hard until it pulled away.  He clenched his teeth tightly against its renewed efforts, refusing it entry.  He didn’t know what it wanted with him, and he didn’t care to find out.  But then, even as the tendril tried to force its way into Loki’s mouth, another wrapped around his neck.  Loki resisted as long as he could, but he couldn’t resist forever.  He opened his mouth to gasp for air, and the tendril forced its way in, filling his mouth and sticking to the back of his throat.  Even as the grip on his neck was released, he still choked and gasped around the intrusion.  As he struggled, Loki could see more hovering nearby, as though waiting their turn.  More of them gripped his body, holding him down and splaying him open.  He lost the battle with the ones on his legs, too focused on trying to breathe to remember to fight back.  He felt his body fall limp as the fight wore out of him, and tried to renew that fight as he felt more of those fleshy tendrils wrap themselves around his waist and hips and thighs, holding him in place.

The one in his mouth pulled away, allowing him to breathe again while staying heavy on his tongue as though in warning.  Loki panted and heaved, still trying to fight back as he was held in place.  Then, one of the tendrils pressed against his ass, probing him the same way his mouth had been probed.  Loki’s fight renewed in full as he tried to back away.  He tried to scream around the weight in his mouth, but it filled him once again, choking him as the tendril between his legs found an opening and forced its way in.  Loki’s body went stiff at the intrusion, his back arching even against the weight holding him down.  He could feel it inside him, worming its way deep, before being joined by another.  He tried to squeeze his legs shut, but he was held down by more and more tendrils each time he managed even the slightest progress.

Then, another began probing him, and Loki knew exactly what it wanted with him.  It found the cunt hidden beneath his balls and he screamed silently as it forced its way in.  He couldn’t breathe, and could barely move as another, and yet another forced its way into him, filling and stretching him until he saw white even in the darkness.  Tears escaped his eyes as he still tried to fight, only attracting more of the tendrils to his face.  While most of the tendrils seemed only to want to fill him, he got the distinct impression some were trying to fuck him, drawing in and out in short, clumsy strokes.  Another entered his mouth, spilling something hot and thick onto his tongue and down his throat.  He choked and gagged on it, nearly inhaling it as his cock became the next target.  First, one of the tendrils found its way past his foreskin and tried to enter the slit.  Again, Loki screamed against the gag in his mouth, but this time the tendril backed away.  Instead of trying to enter him through his cock, the tendril instead consumed it, pulling it in with a force that seemed to want to suck him dry.  Despite the pain and the terror, his cock grew hard inside the tendril.  Again, he tried to fight, and again more of them gripped him and held him down, keeping him splayed open.  They snaked over every inch of his bare skin, probing and testing for any other point of entry.  One tried to find its way up his nose, but stopped and forced its way into his mouth instead, spilling more of the sticky substance onto his tongue.  Loki could feel the ones in his ass and cunt doing the same, filling him until it leaked onto the blankets.  As one emptied and left him, another took its place, keeping him full and giving him no relief.  He could feel the ones trying to fuck him probing deeper and deeper each time, as though whatever creature this was sentient enough to have a vague concept of the act, but didn’t fully understand it.

His own cock spilled inside the beast, drawing another pained scream no one would hear.  Only then did the grip on his body begin to subside.  The tendrils inside him spilled their last, and one by one, retreated.  Soon, he was left alone and bare, pain coursing through his entire body.  Loki rolled onto his side, trembling as he coughed and choked on the fluid in his throat.  He knew exactly what it was, but dared not think about it.  Because whatever was in his throat was the same fluid that was leaking out of his cunt, and he couldn’t dare think about what it meant.

As he finally caught his breath, Loki dared sit up and lit the lamp beside his bed.  His blankets were a mess of fluid, amber like honey, but twice as thick and sticky.  It seeped out of him, coating his thighs and staining his bed.  Loki dared feel between his legs, gasping sharply at his own touch as his fingers found his cunt.  He looked at the sticky substance on his fingers, tinted with red, and nearly gagged.

He had to get up.  He had to do something.  Loki rolled over to the edge of the bed and stumbled to his feet.  He had never let anyone take him that way, and now his body burned from an intrusion he couldn’t even give name to.  As he looked around, he saw no evidence of anything in his chambers, beyond the mess left behind on his bed.  Shaking his head, he decided to leave that problem for later, and instead stumbled to go draw a bath.

Loki stayed in the water until well past daybreak.  He hid in silence as servants came to change his bedding and tidy his chambers.  Loki expected to hear the sounds of a struggle, but none came.  The servants did their job and left without fuss, making Loki wonder if anything had even happened to him at all.  Only then did he dare get out of the water and investigate for himself.  He dressed quickly, tying his breeches tight around his waist before getting down onto all fours to check beneath the bed.  Whatever he was expecting to find, he wasn’t sure.  But all he saw were cluttered boxes and dust bunnies.  There wasn’t enough room for anything much larger than a mouse to hide under there.

It must have been a nightmare.  That was all Loki could imagine.  The pain in his body was nothing more than the usual soreness that came after a long ride.  His saddle was new, and he wasn’t in the habit of wearing linen underclothes beneath his leathers.  His mind had simply taken a terrifying interpretation of the pain and stiffness from spending so long in a saddle that hadn’t yet been broken in properly.

Still, he couldn’t shake it.  He went through his day on a knife’s edge, tired and of short temper because of it, but too wary to take a nap.  Finally, when he could last no longer, Loki kept his breeches on and the lamp lit as he went to bed, making sure to bury himself deep beneath the blankets.  He wanted to resist the call of sleep, but it quickly consumed him, even before he could properly fight back.

When he woke again, Loki knew it was no dream.  He froze, forgetting to breathe while a familiar grip took him by the ankle.  Loki tried to pull away, but it did not retreat this time.  Instead, it gripped him harder and pulled his leg straight.

“No, please,” he said, trying to fight against it.

He could feel another one of the tendrils squeezing around his thigh, trying to pull his breeches down.  But they were still tied tightly, knotted in a way they wouldn’t come accidentally undone as he slept.  This time as the tendrils overtook him, they did so quickly, not giving him a chance to fight back.  They took him by the arms and rolled him onto his back.  They took him by the legs and forced them open, though with his breeches they found an obstacle in their way.  It wasn’t until one of them slithered up from beneath the bed and found his face that Loki could actually see what gripped him.  Black tendrils, long and supple, with hooded flesh at the tips that resembled the foreskin of a cock.  Loki kept his jaw clenched tightly and tried to angle his face away from the one that tried to probe its way into his mouth, dripping its viscous amber fluid from the tip already.  As another wrapped itself around his neck, Loki relented and opened his mouth, not wanting to die from being strangled to death by a monstrous, prehensile dick.

As his mouth and throat were covered in the sticky fluid, Loki tensed and tried to resist the growing assault between his legs.  One of the tendrils found its way up his leg beneath his breeches, and found his cunt shortly after.  Loki whimpered pathetically as it entered him, followed shortly by another that had founds its way in.  Gagged by the tendril in his mouth, all Loki could do was whimper and pull against those gripping him and holding him down, but he had already lost.  More found their way up his legs, filling both his holes, while another forced its way down beneath his waistband and took his cock.  Again, he was sucked dry as his ass and cunt were stretched and filled with the beast’s fluid.  As he choked on it, he tried to kick away as one more forced its way into his cunt.  He tried to scream, but his throat was full, blocked both by the creature and its fluid.  Tears stained his face as again he was sucked to completion.

And then, just as before, the creature slowly left him, filling him with the last of its fluid before pulling away and disappearing.  This time, Loki rolled onto his side, gasping and trembling, and stayed there.  He brought his knees to his chest, not daring to leave the bed and face whatever was waiting for him in his own bedchamber.

Having seen it, inky and black, he knew exactly what it was, and why he could not find it beneath his bed.  It was the thing he had scraped off his boot and brought home.  The thing he had accidentally released when he dropped its jar.

The thing which had now spilled its seed into his every orifice twice.  And still, Loki could do nothing about it.  He could not force himself to move, or even scream.  He hid beneath his blankets like a frightened child, knowing there was no one he could turn to for help.  He had brought this upon himself, and to admit not only bringing it to the palace, but to everything else that had been done to him would only kill him from shame.

He didn’t sleep at all for the rest of the night, and stayed in bed, sticky and soaked through the entire day that followed.  He didn’t dare get up from bed.  He didn’t dare face anyone, because then he’d have to answer questions.  He didn’t dare move.  And as night fell once more, and Loki’s chambers fell dark, he stayed awake and awaited the inevitable.  The lamp continued to glow faintly beside the bed, and Loki saw the shadows before he felt the creature grip him once more.  As the creature gripped his ankle and pulled his leg straight, Loki thrashed and fought against it.  He dug his nails into its soft flesh, and bit it when it dared to come near his mouth.  But he didn’t scream.  If he screamed, someone might hear, and if they heard, they’d come and they’d see.  He growled and swore instead, even as it splayed him open once more and held him against the bed.  He let it choke him until his need for air was so great he lost control and gasped on reflex.  He bit the tendril in his mouth, and let himself be choked again in the name of fighting back.

There was little he could do once they found their way into his breeches.  He could only kick and thrash so much before it was stuffed full with as many of the tendrils as would fit inside him.  He tried to squirm away from the ones that tried to fuck him, but they only seemed to probe deeper for it.  He resisted as long as he could once his cock was taken.  It wanted his seed just as much as it wanted to fill him with its own, and he refused to give it willingly.  He lay in a pool of sticky fluid, his breeches stuck to his flesh as again and again and again, the tendrils spilled inside him.  He resisted until he was fucked raw by their clumsy efforts, sending a painful burn through his entire body with each probing thrust.  Finally, he could resist no more and spilled as well, his entire body heaving and trembling from the effort of fighting.  Slowly, one by one, the tendrils retreated, leaving him full and sticky and used.  He was no longer frightened by it; he was furious.  Furious because it had been his own damn fault, and he had no idea how to stop it.  Once he was finally released, Loki threw himself from bed and cleaned himself up, hoping that if he at least felt clean, he might be able to forget all of this long enough to figure out a solution.

Nothing in his own collection gave him any insight, and Asgard’s library was equally barren.  Loki exhausted himself poring over old tomes, already fragile from so many days without proper sleep.  As he began to feel himself run out of steam, he was presented with a new dilemma.  He could return to his chambers to relive his waking torment, or he could find some excuse to sleep anywhere else.  He had fallen asleep in the library before, and so he decided to do just that, and worked until he could no longer keep his eyes open and he slumped over his desk.

What he did not anticipate was Thor finding him, and hauling him to his feet.  As Loki woke and found himself being dragged through the corridors, arm slung over Thor’s shoulder as Thor held him up, he tried to fight back.

“No,” he said, trying to free himself from his brother’s grip.

Thor laughed.  “You’ll work yourself to death if you don’t get some proper rest,” Thor said.

Loki feebly fought against him, even as Thor dragged him to his bed and dumped him there.

“You look like hel, Loki.  Get some sleep,” Thor said, turning and leaving him there.

Before Loki could protest, Thor was gone, and he was alone.  He was barely able to sit up before a dark, heavy dread fell over the chamber, and something snaked its way over the bedding toward him.

“No,” Loki said, kicking his heel at it.

The creature was done playing with him, but so was Loki.  He fought like hel as it assaulted him from all angles, gripping and pulling him into submission.  It found his leather breeches, still tucked into his boots, a stronger barrier, but Loki knew it wouldn’t last long.  He fought against it as the tendrils tried to find a way to him, probing his body for any weakness.  It found his laces and prodded at them, even as Loki thrashed and flinched away.

“No,” he said again.  “I will not.”

The tendrils choked him, and pulled his arms and legs so tightly his joints screamed in agony.  They forced their way into his mouth, two and three at a time and nearly smothered him as they spilled their sticky seed.  They found their way into his waistband, snaking around his waist and hips to find their way into his every hole.  This time, he did try to scream.  He thrashed and bit as his body was invaded.  One of them found his cock and wrapped around it, but did not take him in as it had before.  Instead, it squeezed him until he was hard, and left him wanting as others slithered their way as deep into him as they could go, filling him painfully and fucking him raw.  Loki screamed through the pain, his voice muffled against the tendrils pressed against the back of his throat.  He thrashed and fought until he hadn’t the energy left, and could only tremble and heave instead.  The creature’s seed leaked from him, soaking his legs and his ass until he felt like he was swimming in it.  Finally, as his body went limp completely, so overwhelmed from the continued assault, the creature took his cock and his seed before retreating.

Exhausted and abused, Loki lost consciousness before the last tendril was even out of him.  When he woke the next morning, his breeches soaked to his knees, with more spilled out over his belly and chest, Loki felt a knot in his belly like he was about to vomit.  He hurled himself from bed and stumbled to the bath chamber, but even as he bent over the basin, nothing wanted to come up.  He stayed there for a long while, panting through his teeth until finally the feeling subsided.

He needed to bathe.  He drew a bath and stripped, having to peel his clothes off of his flesh.  Everything reeked like rot, and Loki was certain the only way to deal with it would be to have everything burned.

He slid into the warm water, hoping it might settle the ache in his stomach.  Instead, it was as though he had been punched in the gut.  A knot deep inside him tightened, forcing him to sit up and pull his knees close to his chest.  He groaned and growled through his teeth as it only got worse, rising until the pain consumed his entire body.  He tried to breathe as the pain still rose until finally it felt as though something inside him tore open.  He screamed into the crook of his arm as something burned within him.  He opened his eyes to see the water between his legs swirling with black, as though he were bathing in ink.  With a slow, horrible rising terror, Loki realised it wasn’t ink the water at all.  Hundreds, maybe thousands of amorphous black creatures were exploding from within him, swirling around in the water.  He wanted to scream and cry and beg for help, but instead he muffled himself with his fist as another wave of agony coursed through him.  The creatures spilled out of him, swimming about in the water as though they belonged there, and still more came.

He screamed and panted until all he felt was numb, and the creatures in the water  made it thick and heavy.  Wanting to vomit not from pain, but from the horror, Loki got out of the water onto shaky legs and watched for a long moment as countless tiny monsters floated around listlessly.  He barely got to the basin before choking up bile and what he could only imagine was the creature’s seed, and tried not to think about any of it.  His body ached with a brand new pain, and he stayed hunched over the basin until it finally subsided.

He hadn’t even got clean, and now he had a whole new problem.  Wrapping himself with a towel, Loki stared at the bath, trying to figure out what to do with the terrible thing he had just birthed into the world.  He couldn’t leave it there.  He couldn’t dispose of it in any usual way, or call for help.  Still trembling, Loki retreated to his bedchamber and searched his shelves until he found a bottle of distilled spirits.  He took it back to the bath chamber and poured the entire bottle into the water, and then lit it with a spark from his fingers.  The creatures squeaked and squealed as they burned, and Loki didn’t know if they were screaming, or simply cooking.  He stood, panting and sick as he watched the whole thing burn until there was nothing left but the fried remains floating now lifelessly in the water.  Then, he turned to face his bedchamber, and the thing that had taken up residence within.  Shaking his head, Loki strode toward his bed and fell to the floor beside it.  He didn’t care that the towel fell to the ground, baring him and his stained and sticky flesh.  He didn’t care that he could still feel something vile leaking from him as he pulled every box and crate from beneath his bed.  He didn’t care what was in any of it.  It all had to go.  He dropped the first box into the fire pit and unceremoniously lit it, letting the flames catch before dropping the next one in after it.

He wanted to burn the bed, but it wouldn’t fit in the fire pit.  Instead, he took a lamp and crawled beneath it, searching every crack and crevice the light would touch.  Finding nothing, Loki crawled back out and stared at the burning books and furs and potions in his fire pit, praying the creature had been hiding amongst them.

Loki still needed to get clean.  He was still sticky from the creature’s fluid, and now a small trail of blood mixed with black bile ran down the inside of his thigh.  He returned to the bath chamber, emptied the bath, and drew a new one.  This time when he got into the water, there was no pain.  No alien creatures came bursting from his womb.  He was able to get clean, systematically scrubbing every bit of his body as though doing so would also scrub away the memories.  He tried to clean deep inside himself, but he could only reach so far.  Only once the water grew cold did he let himself even begin to relax and rest.

No one could ever know.  If anyone knew, he’d be blamed.  If even a single one of those monsters had got away unburnt, it would find someone else, and Loki would be connected.  Thor already knew too much, but Loki prayed he did not know enough to make the right connections.

It was past midday when he finally got out of the bath and dressed.  He burned his ruined clothes as well, not wanting to ever see them again.  He fixed his hair, and put care into his clothes, wanting to give the impression of being put together and sane when he was seen in public.  No one asked him any questions, or gave any indication they’d suspected anything.  That alone was enough to ease his nerves, if just a little bit.  But he had to return to his chambers eventually.  He couldn’t sleep in the library or in abandoned halls.  If he was going to put on an appearance of normality, he had to pretend everything was normal.

Loki waited until he was falling asleep on his feet before returning to his chambers.  As he reached his bedchamber, he stood in the door and stared at his bed, no longer confident he had solved the problem at all.  He knew if he hadn’t solved the problem, there was little he’d be able to do to stop anything once it started.  His breeches proved no match for the creature, and he couldn’t sleep in leather anyway.  But he couldn’t just give in either.  Sighing tiredly, Loki undressed, trading his leather for linen.

Still, he stared as his bed, but couldn’t quite allow himself to give in.  Instead, he collapsed onto the sofa beneath the windows, knowing deep down it would not make any difference.  And yet, despite the dread of what he knew what coming, he fell asleep quickly, if not terribly soundly.

He wasn’t surprised when he was woken by a familiar grip around his chest.  He was angry.  He fought and thrashed as he was pulled to the floor and dragged out to the open.  As he was pinned to the cold ground, he put only a token effort into letting the creature know that he did not approve, but when it pulled his legs open he let it.  He flinched and pulled only briefly as its tendrils found their way into his breeches and forced their way inside him, first finding his ass, and then his cunt.  He bit his lip and grunted as he was filled and stretched as though it wanted to pull him apart.  When it tried to find its way into his mouth, he refused until it choked him and made him gasp for air, and then he bit it as it forced its way onto his tongue.  He could feel it spilling its sticky seed inside him, and knew that in just a few days, he would give birth to more monsters.

Loki pulled against it, knowing everything he did was futile.  He no longer tried to resist as it milked him of his own seed, letting it take from him what it wanted so it would finally retreat.  As it finally let him go, Loki leapt to his feet, kicking and swearing at it as it retreated back into the shadows.  It wasn’t in the bed, as he had suspected.  It was in the very walls.  Nothing he could do would get rid of the damned thing, and he wanted to scream at the realisation.

Panting and furious at everything, Loki retreated to the bath chamber to clean himself up quickly as possible.  He didn’t bother trying to take a bath or to clean himself inside as well, since it hadn’t worked the first time.  The creature’s seed was thick and sticky, and wouldn’t come out.  The creature made sure to plant it deep, and Loki knew there wasn’t a damn thing he could do about it.  He’d just have to be prepared for what was to come later.

With nothing else to do, Loki got into his bed and rolled angrily onto his side, seething silently until he finally drifted off to sleep.  This time, at least, the creature left him alone.

Loki left his chambers as soon as he woke, and stayed away all day.  He had thought the creature was in his bed, but it was his very home that had been infected by it.  Instead of returning the following night, Loki did what he knew he should have done in the first place.  He found some dusty, unused hall with furnishing that hadn’t been cleaned or replaced in years, and made himself at home there.  The bed was old and smelled of must and rotting furs, but he was tired enough that as he crawled beneath the blankets, he didn’t care about any of it.  He couldn’t sleep in leather, so he lay naked beneath the blankets, finding it no longer comfortable to do so.  Still, his exhaustion was such that he managed to sleep anyway.

It took him by the wrists first, and Loki woke as he was pulled onto his back.  He fought against it, realising at once what was happening, and no longer frightened by it.  He knew what came next, and that took the fear out of it.  Now, he was angry at being outsmarted by a beast.

“Can you smell it?” he said as he tried to pull his hands away.  “Get off of me!”

It held him tight, wrapping its tendrils over and around his body to keep him pinned to the bed.  He grunted and growled, trying to fight back against the creature’s iron grip, but found himself giving up as soon as the first tendril found his cunt.  He grimaced and held his body tense as he was invaded, first in his cunt, then his ass, making Loki suspect the creature didn’t know which hole was the one it needed.  Another came for his mouth, but Loki held his jaw tight and jerked his head away.

“Fuck off,” he said, once more jerking his body fruitlessly against the grip.

The tendril forced its way into his mouth without choking him this time, though still not without gagging him as it forced its way into his throat.  His breath grew ragged as the tendrils filled him, snaking their way through him until they could reach no further, crowding in until no more could fit.  He could feel them squeezing and sliding against one another deep inside him, spilling their disgusting, sticky seed so deep nothing he could ever do would undo what was done to him.  He got the distinct impression the creature meant to torment and punish him as it wrapped one of its tendrils around his cock and left him hard as one after another spilled inside him and withdrew to make room for the next.  Sometimes, they were in and out quickly, doing their job and getting out of the way for the next.  Others still tried to figure out how to fuck him, as though it made any difference at all in the end.  Loki wasn’t sure which was worse in the end, since it all amounted to the same sorry thing.  His body, used and abused by some creature in need to a host.  And his body specifically, it seemed.  It had sought him out when he didn’t return to his own bed.  Either way, no matter what Loki did or how his body was abused, the creature would spill inside him, and he would birth monsters.

Loki choked and gagged around the tendrils crowding his mouth as one finally took his cock, sucking it hard enough to hurt.  He tried to pull himself away again, but the creature was stronger than he was.  It had won, and the only thing Loki could do was let it finish what it came for.  Finally, he spilled, and it took his seed and slowly withdrew, creeping away into the shadows where it lived.  Once he knew he was alone, Loki used one of the blankets to clean himself as much as possible, and tossed it aside to the floor.  Seething, and his body aching, he rolled over onto his side and buried himself beneath the blankets so all he could see was darkness.

It would come for him.  No matter where he went, it would come for him.  Loki knew this.  It sought him specifically; had targeted him specifically.  It knew he was different, and somehow he was just different enough to be the perfect host.  After it had sought him out, Loki knew the thing had some sentience about it.  It wasn’t just a mindless monster.  A monster, yes, but one that was able to plan and act.  One that recognised him, and wanted no one else.

Hiding in another chamber wouldn’t be enough, so Loki returned to his own chambers with another plan in mind.  He simply wouldn’t go to bed.  He’d find somewhere to catch naps during the day if he had to, but clearly trying to sleep was not an option.

He kept all the lamps lit and the fire burning lowly as he worked into the night, hunched over his desk as he searched desperately for a solution to his problem.  His eyes bounced over the ink on the pages, no longer reading as he struggled to maintain his focus.  Nothing alerted him to the danger before one of the tendrils came at him from behind, wrapping quickly and tightly around him and pinning him to the chair.

“Get the hel off of me!” Loki said, trying to struggle away.

Rather than dragging him to the floor, the tendrils wrapped around him, holding him to the chair.  He gave up fighting as it grabbed his legs around the thighs and pulled him open, spreading him as far as he would go.  There was no escaping this.  He knew it, and no longer saw the point in trying to fight it.  Even as his arms were pinned tightly to his sides, Loki managed to shift lower into his seat, hoping to at least make everything go more quickly.  He stayed still, letting the tendrils probe and prod at his breeches, trying to find a way through the laces.  They were able to squeeze through, nearly flattening themselves against his stomach to reach his cunt.  Though they continued to snake and search around between his legs, they couldn’t reach his asshole, and Loki did not think that was a terrible thing at the end of the day.  He kept his jaw set tightly as tendril after tendril forced itself into his cunt, ignoring the way they teased his clit as they slid over and around it.  He breathed heavily through his nose, staring straight ahead at the wall in front of him as he felt himself being filled so full, the sticky fluid once more began to pour back out of him and into his breeches.  As they began to probe around his face, Loki let his mouth fall open to take them, not exactly in the mood to choke and gag.

Even though he didn’t fight it, the creature continued to take its time with him.  He knew that it needed his seed, and he suspected that’s what the creature fed on.  But as it filled him and tried to fuck him, it completely ignored his cock.  Loki grunted as it began to stir on its own, hating himself for not fighting back.  As it forced another tendril into him, Loki tried to squirm away and hated even more that he could feel himself responding to the abuse his body took.  Once more, he suspected it was smart enough to be punishing him.  He had stayed up and made himself a more difficult target, and now it was taking its time with him.  This wasn’t about about filling him; it was about a message, and it was a message Loki understood loud and clear.

He didn’t try to scream.  He didn’t try to bite or squirm away.  He held himself as still as he could, his body stiff and trembling from the effort of going against everything his body wanted to do.  He let the creature spill its seed inside him, filling his cunt and coating his throat with it.  Finally, it took his cock, and Loki was almost relieved for it.  He didn’t try to fight against it as it began to work his own seed from him, not wanting to prolong this any more than necessary.  He spilled with a shameful grunt, and let himself go slack as the creature began its slow withdrawal.

Once again, he was swimming in seed.  Once again, he shed his clothes and threw them into the fire pit before heading to go draw himself a bath to clean the sticky fluid from his skin so he could go to sleep.

Loki woke with a familiar tightness in his belly, and knew immediately what was coming.  Dealing with the problem was no longer a confused scramble, but a carefully rehearsed routine.  Resigned and exhausted to his fate, he rose from bed and pulled a bottle of distilled spirits from the shelf before drawing a warm bath.  Not to get clean, but to dispose of his sins.  He got into the water and let the creatures spill from his womb, wave after wave of full body pain consuming him.  He gagged himself against his own screams and held the edge of the bath until he could no longer feel his fingers.  He stayed in the water until the pain finally subsided, and all that was left was a cold numbness that consumed him.  Only then did he get out, pour the spirits into the bath, and set fire to the entire disgusting lot.  He waited until the screeching stopped and the flames went out before draining the water to start again, this time to clean himself of the evidence; of the blood and black fluid that still slowly drained from him.

Once clean, he got out again and dressed to get on with his day.  In another four days, he would repeat the whole ordeal.  But until then he would at least try to maintain a semblance of normality.  He went about his day, doing his work and his tasks, and returned to his chambers that evening broken and weary.  He stripped naked before getting into bed, making sure he had a thick blanket beneath him as he settled.  But he didn’t sleep.  He lay flat on his back, staring up at the ceiling and waiting.  Eventually, as the sound from the gardens below finally subsided, it came for him.  It wrapped its tendrils around his body, pinning him down and invading him, filling him.  Loki wondered if it knew what he did every four days; if it knew that he destroyed everything that came out of him, and if that’s why it kept coming back.  He had lost count of how many mornings he rose from bed and birthed monsters.  He had lost count of how many nights he stared at the ceiling, unmoving and silent as the creature filled him with seed, clumsily fucking him.  He had lost count of how many times he nearly choked as it forced its seed not down his throat, but into his lungs.  He had lost count of how many days it had been since he’d stopped fighting; since he’d learned to lie back and pretend he was somewhere else.

He didn’t scream.  The only sounds he made were pained grunts and whines as the creature pushed itself too deep, or got too greedy and filled him with too many tendrils at once.  He let himself lay limp and still, letting it take from him what it wanted, and feed off him once it was done.  He no longer even bothered getting up after.  He had learned to sleep sticky and wet when it finally withdrew.  When it was finally gone, Loki rolled over onto his side, bringing his knees up to his chest, and stared at the shelf beside his bed until sleep finally took him.

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Compulsion (2,283 words) by LokiOfSassgaard

Chapters: 1
Fandom: Thor
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-con
Pairings: Loki/Sif
Characters: Loki, Sif
Additional Tags: drugged sex, non-consensual somnophilia

Loki hated it. Pining. It was the sort of thing he ought to have grown out of as a boy, and yet here he was, harbouring a melancholic jealousy he didn’t even want. He had long given up trying to catch her attention. His attempts to get her to see him as anything other than Thor’s younger brother had all been in vain, because that’s all anyone had ever seen him as.

She wasn’t alone, exactly. No one was truly alone while in a crowded mead hall. But the seat next to her was empty, and Loki never learned. He sidled up next to her, cup of wine in hand, and let himself get just a little too close.

“Loki, what do you want?” Sif asked, not even trying to sound like he hadn’t already annoyed her.

“Gossip and good drink?” Loki said, holding up his cup.

Sif shook her head, but she didn’t get up to leave him. Together, they sat in an uncomfortable silence until the man on Sif’s other side started boasting about slaying dragons, and Sif boasted back about slaying even bigger dragons, and Loki was utterly and completely ignored. He knew he should have got up to leave, but he couldn’t bear the shame of walking away. Instead, he stared into his cup and pretended he had come to drink alone. And after a few hours, when Sif stumbled off with the same man she’d spent all night having a verbal pissing contest with, Loki was left without even the illusion that he was with company.

After a battle always came drink. And in the tiny Elvish village, the drink flowed more freely than most places. As those in the hall one by one succumbed to the the ale and wine, Loki found himself amongst the last to still retain a semblance of his wits. The few that were still somehow conscious were only holding onto the last shreds, and would be quickly gone like the rest.

Loki wasn’t paying attention to any of them though. His gaze was fixed on Sif, sprawled nearby on the floor beside a bench. She had got up, intending to find a place to sleep for the night, and had got no further than right there. He watched her breathing, slowly and evenly; the rise and fall of her breast beneath her tunic. Without her armour to conceal her form, Loki could see the shape of her as he rarely did. The thought skittered across his mind that he could reach out and touch her, and nobody would notice. Nobody was even looking in his direction. He could touch Sif as he had always wanted, and she wouldn’t even know.

But it was a brief thought, chased quickly away at disgust with his own mind. How desperate was he that he would stoop so low? What kind of man was he that the only way he could get Sif’s attention was to steal it without her knowledge?

Loki rose to his feet and fled the hall, unable to escape the images still stuck in his mind.

He couldn’t get the image out of his mind. It was as though it chased him, relentlessly hounding him without mercy. Sometimes it would again flutter across his mind on a whim, allowing him to wonder what might have happened had he taken what he’d for so long wanted. Other times, he called it to memory, playing out the scenario as he took himself in hand. In those moments, the scene played differently though. It wasn’t some Elvish jarl’s crowded hall. When Loki played the scene in his mind, the hall was empty, and there were none to stop him from doing what he wanted to do with Sif’s body. He imagined what her flesh might taste like; the salt of her skin and the musk of the day’s activities. He imagined her soft, supple form beneath his hands, and how she might move against his touch, craving more even as she slept.

And she was always asleep. Never again did he imagine the two of them together, her using his body as much as he used hers. That illusion had been shattered, and now he had something attainable; something that was almost, and could have been real if he had just been brave enough to reach out and take it.

Loki stopped vying for Sif’s attention after that. He would never get it in a way that mattered, and he knew that now. Instead, he watched. He watched as she and Thor continued to dance around one another. He watched as she gave her attention to warriors bigger and stronger than Loki would ever be. He watched and he waited. Because Sif was confident. And like so many confident people, she was careless with who or what got her attention.

And eventually, what got Sif’s attention was a feast day. A day of drunken revelry and indulgence. Loki stayed close, watching her drink too much, and eat too little. He watched her travel from table to table, her delicate gown tight against her body to show off her every curve. He watched as she flirted and toyed with other men, but ultimately left all of them wanting. He watched as she crossed a threshold she was never aware of crossing, ignorant to her own limits. The feast had worn long into the night, and like so many times before, Sif was one of the last to stumble off. In that moment Loki knew he might never get this opportunity again. He leapt up, catching her arm as she stumbled awkwardly to one side. She looked up at him, and for a moment Loki expected her to ask what he wanted and to pull away from his grip. Instead she leaned into him and continued on her path.

Loki had never been overly fond of partners who were too drunk to know what they were doing, but Sif was not any tavern wench picked up on a whim. Loki could have what he wanted from her, and there wasn’t a soul on Asgard who could stop him.

She wouldn’t even know. She’d had so much to drink, Loki knew she wouldn’t even remember. And despite every apprehension and misgiving he may have had, Loki walked with her to her chambers. He helped her through the door and to her bed. And as she dropped from his grip, immediately spread out on the bed before him, Loki took one last moment to consider what he was doing. He looked back to the door, closed tightly between them and the rest of the realm, and all reason left him. Loki leaned over, nudging Sif toward the middle of the bed before climbing in with her. For a long moment, he gazed over her form, watching the gentle swell of her chest as she breathed. Her legs lay splayed open and inviting, as though waiting for him. Carefully, Loki pinched the hem of her gown. He watched Sif’s face as he gingerly lifted her gown, pulling it up so he could see her smallclothes beneath.

But she wore none. Her gown fit so tightly around her form that smallclothes would only get in the way. Nothing lay between Loki and the parts of Sif’s body Loki wanted most. He stared at her cunt, unable to believe he was finally able to see it. He had imagined it before, countless times, but never had he seen it until now. Loki tore his gaze away from it and looked back up to Sif’s face, finding her still asleep. Biting his lip, Loki moved between Sif’s knees, bending down to get a closer look as he carefully settled her gown out of the way.

Again, he looked up at her, and again found she hadn’t moved. Loki reached out to touch, dragging the pad of his finger over her opening. Sif didn’t so much as stir, so he did it again, this time pressing past her folds. He couldn’t decide between watching his fingers sink into her, or watching her face to know if she were about to wake. With a ragged breath, Loki buried his fingers inside her, feeling her from within. Her heat, her wetness. All of her. He was achingly hard within his breeches, and he imagined it was his dick he fucked her with as he drew his fingers out of her, and then buried them again. It only made him want her more, but he didn’t stop. He watched her face, part of him wanting to see her respond to him. He wanted her to know he touched her, even if she did not know it was him. But she still did not stir. Her breath did not hitch. She slept on, even as Loki continued to fuck her with his fingers.

With his other hand, Loki unlaced his breeches. While he used his fingers to pull whatever reaction he could from Sif, he began to stroke himself, keeping time so that he worked himself at the same pace he worked her.

When it became clear she would not rouse, Loki pulled his fingers from her. Compelled, he took his fingers in his mouth, tasting Sif on his own flesh. He licked and sucked on his fingers as he continued to stroke himself, moaning quietly beneath his breath until he could no longer taste her. He wanted more. With his caution exhausted, Loki lowered himself to bring his mouth to her cunt. He invaded her with his tongue, pulling her taste from as deep as he could reach. He rutted into his own hand and moaned against her, humming deep from within his chest. For a moment, he thought he felt Sif stir beneath him, but it was a fleeting moment. When he looked up at her again, she was still sound asleep; still had not moved from where he had put her.

Loki moved before he even realised what he was doing, but even as he climbed over her, he did not try to stop himself. He watched her face as he sunk himself into her cunt, having to push past her tightness around him. Still, she didn’t stir. Still, she slept on. Fully seated within her, Loki could barely breathe. He had never imagined he would be here, knowing Sif’s body on every level. He rutted slowly against her as he leaned down to taste her flesh, exactly as he had imagined countless times, and found her even better than he could have ever hoped. He felt her body through her gown, unable to get past it so tight and close around her. Loki kissed her lips, and imagined that she kissed him back. Instead, she groaned quietly, for just a moment, and was silent again. The sound drew an almost surprised whimper from Loki. He needed to hear her make that sound again. He needed her to respond to him, in any way. He fucked her harder, letting his weight fall over her. He buried his face in her neck and keened desperately against her. She was his, in every way that mattered, finally. She groaned again, and Loki gasped. He shifted on top of her, holding her around the hips to press their bodies closer together.

She stirred beneath him, turning her head to one side, and Loki dragged his mouth over her exposed neck. He got lost in her, moaning and gasping against her skin. Then she groaned again and turned her head back, and for just a moment her eyes drifted open. For just a moment, Loki felt as though he could see into her very soul. Then, her eyes closed again, and her head fell to the other side.

It drove Loki mad. He hitched her even closer to him, trying to bury himself as deep as he could inside her. Her eyes opened again for just a moment as she gasped, but Loki didn’t stop. She shifted beneath him, barely able to move, and Loki only increased his speed and his force as he rutted into her.

Lowly, Sif whimpered as she turned her head away again, and Loki shushed her.

“None of that,” he said breathlessly. “Come on. I’m almost there.”

He thought she pushed against him, but then she fell limp beneath him once more, her eyes staying closed. Loki bent his head over her shoulder and keened loudly as he neared completion. He held Sif against him, watching her face as he finally spilled. He trembled as he felt his seed filling her, and wondered if she’d ever know. Gasping and panting, Loki hastily backed away from her, watching as she continued to lie still. He quickly pulled his breeches back up and tied them, suddenly realising what he had done. Sif had seen him. He knew that, though he knew not whether she would remember having seen him.

Loki quickly got to his feet, gaze still fixed on Sif’s sleeping form. Her gown was still hitched up, and for a moment Loki thought to fix it. Maybe if he put it back, she’d think it was a dream.

But he stopped just short of reaching out for it. He wanted her to know. He wanted her angry with him. He wanted to see her rage and murderous fury.

He wanted her to not remember any of it. He her to know that she had crossed someone, and not know who. He wanted her to wake and realise what had happened to her with no memory of it.

Instead of fixing her gown, Loki slowly backed out of her chambers and rushed to find an alibi.

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