Title: Enthralled Author: @wickednerdery Fandom: Marvel Pairing/character: Loki x Jotun!OC Rating: Mature/Explicit Summary: “Please...I am begging you...” Notes: This is a gift to @manip-loki for all the AMAZING fanart (posted at @maniploki) she’s made for me over the weeks/months based on my FrostBitten series. The concept of a Thrall Collar is from @endlessstairway and her amazing stories here. This specific piece is meant to be a sneak peak of the sequel to FrostBitten. Ulfr is a Frost Giant and “played” by Lee Pace. The story is dark, it has mentions of non-con, violence, hints of dub-con, and Loki in a very bad situation and head-space (I’m seriously cruel to Loki in this, sorry) …For all that and its length it gets a “Read More”
To say that Loki slumps is gracious...he’s tossed, left to slip down to the floor. He whimpers, tries to soothe aching head and split lip on cool tile, as the guards laugh above him. A boot sets on his back, flattening him underneath, as his breath is slowly crushed from lungs. His insides feel rearranged and stomach threatens to revolt. The collar holds his neck off the floor, reminds him of a guillotine, and Loki floods with the wish that Odin had simply swung the ax.
“Did you like that, Thrall?” The Ba-Bani guard cackles as he tucks himself back in, does up the flap of his armor once more. “Come on, tell me you liked it.”
“I...” - ‘wanna rip your fucking throat out’ - the binding shocks his tongue, presses in from all angles so Loki feels his head could well cave in. “I liked it...Sir.” There’s some relief, but broken body and rage prevent any true comfort. Slaves are to be meek, pliable, eager to please...Loki’s not quite gotten the hang of such things even now. Even knowing what could await anything but what’s expected of a thrall.
The other guard smirks. “Wanna go again?” He presses the tip of his shoe between Loki’s legs, encouraging Loki to spread once more, when all three hear the sound of heavy boots approaching. “Maybe you’ll have a third on your dance-card this time,” the guard notes viciously, presuming a coworker. “Might have to turn you into a bitch so you can handle all of us together, wouldn’t that be a treat?”
Loki feels himself pressed, pressured, to answer, but stubbornly fights it. Stubbornly hopes, prays to the gods, that this new person is a savior, not the next in line for him. Jaw clenches as the need to answer, the need to acquiesce, builds to almost intolerable pain. “P-Ple...” He holds fast, tears streaming, and is saved by a new voice.
“Didn’t think you guys got free samples.” As amused as it sounds, there’s a hint of threat to it as well.
And, for Loki, a hint of recognition. He can’t look up - position and binding both prevent it - but he knows that voice. Deep, dark, but just this side of delighted.
The Ba-Bani’s foot comes off Loki as he turns. “You can’t be back here!”
“Then perhaps you should do a better job guarding,” the new arrival counters. “Or...you can forget I’m here and I can forget you’re fucking the merchandise.”
Loki’s seized by the metal collar, yanked up on unstable feet. He can barely stand up straight as the urge to double-over washes through him. He closes his eyes to regain balance, to prevent the worsening of the pain in his head, and avoid who stands before him. Whose voice he knows, who’s about to see him in all his newfound shame.
Because this is him now. Without his magic, without power and prestige, without a name. His only property’s a well-worn, elongated, tunic that does little to keep his decency and a Thrall Collar; even those are not truly his. The tunic’s a necessity to keep him from getting ill before purchase and the collar to keep him in his place...in the end they’ll all belong to his new master, including Loki himself. And, just as he received his, when Loki dies the tunic and collar will go to another of his ilk.
“Look at me, Loki.” The voice orders sternly, but not cruelly.
The former king, the former prince, the former Loki is yanked by the hair, ordered to obey by both guards and collar. Eyes open slowly, warily, and he cringes at the results.
“Gods...I still half-expected it to be one giant charade.” Ulfr half-smirks with a tilt of his head. He’s his true self; big, blue, red eyes with a glint of amusement to them. “That I’d find an empty container with ‘Later Losers’ scrawled across it.” He nearly giggles.
“You know him?” The Ba-Bani questions suspiciously. It would not be the first time a loved one, or even an enemy, has attempted to break a thrall out of bondage.
Ulfr gives a derisive snort. “You don’t?”
“I don’t care.” he counters arrogantly in attempts to cover his ignorance. “He’s no one, nothing, but a slave now.” He approaches the Jotun, expecting to intimidate, but finds himself woefully oversized as he closes in. He switches tactics. “You’re interested in him?”
“I wouldn’t be here otherwise.”
“Perhaps you’d like to try him out...” the guard smiles as the other begins to force Loki forward. “He fusses to start, but by the end he moans pleasure as any whore would.”
Ulfr’s grin goes wide. “I don’t do sloppy one-hundredths.”
The Ba-Bani’s face falls, the other guard drops Loki onto bruised hands and knees. The god keeps himself curled up a moment before slipping off against the wall, out of immediate reach. Staring without blinking from behind the magic barrier Loki carefully calculates his odds on all sides. Careful not to think of what the binding prevented - escape, vengeance, disobedience - and instead of survival. Of Ulfr’s desires for him, of the odds in the guards convincing him to take a turn with Loki’s abused body, of getting a good master. Or, at least, not someone exceptionally sadistic. His already foggy mind is so full of calculation and, yes, prayers, that Loki completely misses the conversation...
“I assure you, I’ll leave no marks before he goes on the block,” Ulfr smiles as the Ba-Bani slips him a pass into the room on the guards’ way out. He conjures a chair on the opposite end of the container to sit in. “I know you can speak.” He points to the collar with its throbbing light indicator. “I know how these work and I can see yours is blue.”
Loki’s a shell of what he was; hair lanky, eyes sunken in and lifeless, sallow skin. That King of Midgard, that God of Mischief, is long gone. To think this being once had millions at his feet, to think he once had Ulfr there. His throat rumbles in its clearing against the metal symbol of his enslavement; he breathes in effort to find his dignity. “What would you have me say, Sir?” The response is polite, respectful, with just a hint of ‘fuck you’. The magic of the collar sees, hears, senses all and fires pain off within Loki’s mind as the blue dims...it’s worth it nevertheless.
Loathe to admit it, Ulfr forever admires the other’s skill in weaving through loopholes like thread through a needle. “Your brother’s crossing his friends, his family, to make deals, your mother’s begging mercies to a Frost Giant...” Loki’s eyes flare a warning, the blue fades more. “All to keep you alive, keep you safe, but you...you won’t lift a finger to defend yourself.”
“How can I?” Thus far nothing he’s done has been met with anything save brutality and abuse. Both before and after this point in his life, it would seem. And thralls don’t get mercy, they get used until they no longer can be...Then, if lucky, they simply die.
“Defeated so soon?” Ulfr shifts to lounge, legs spreading out and apart. “That’s hardly you. What happened to the god ordering worlds to kneel? The king delighting in the abuse of his peasants, his soldiers?”
Loki sighs, examines the frays of his tunic wondering how many before him had worn it. Died in it. “If you’re here for your revenge make it quick, I’m to be sold soon enough.” The collar punishes, presses in, deciding he’s not humble, meek, enough...it cows Loki into a cringing ball. He grunts in pain as he’s force to spill out the words. “Please...Sir.”
Lips quirk slightly as eyes catch the stains of others’ pleasure on cloth and thighs. “It looks like more than enough have taken their revenge on you today.”
Curling up more - as much from shame now as pain - the thrall does, says, nothing save hide his face behind unwashed hair. He won’t admit it, but binding aside, he lacks the strength to reply or even look the other in the eye anymore.
“What I want is simpler, far less messy, but possibly more enjoyable.” Loki sighs, just grateful there’s no question or order he must respond to; Ulfr continues with a smile. “I want you to beg.”
The god looks up, unsurprised, as the collar goes to work, immediately pressuring him to comply. To beg. Only Loki’s unsure what he’s to beg for and, in getting it wrong, the collar will have its own punishments for him.
“I want you to crawl to me, Loki, like a good pet, and beg for my mercy.”
The use of the phrase is not lost; the former king remembers saying those words to others, to that bold girl they once battled over...to Ulfr himself. He supposes it’s fair turnabout he should be ordered in the same manner now. It’s certainly the least abhorrent thing request or order he’s been given since finding himself in this position.
Hands and knees move slow - reluctant from soreness and wisps of pride he stubbornly hangs on to - head remains down. Loki knows the lighting here, he knows it exposes him through the tunic; he knows what once was a predator’s stalk is now a beaten dog’s slouching. He knows Ulfr sees it too. “Please...” he mutters as he reaches Ulfr’s feet.
“That’s it? That’s the beg?” Ulfr chuckles in amusement, in effort to show pleasure in Loki’s pathetic attempt, so as to prevent another harsh punishment from Loki’s collar; to keep lights blue and Loki verbal. He shifts to nudge Loki’s shoulder down with the heel of his booth until head and chest brush the ground. “You can do better than that...and rumors are that some of Thanos’ children are out there, so you really have to.“
“Please...I am begging you...” he can smell sweat, blood, sex, and disinfectant on the floor, his breath fogs the tile. “For my life...for my...” Loki isn’t one to beg, he doesn’t even know what to say. “For my mother’s peace of mind.” At least that one’s genuine. “For my brother’s...honor.” Always seems important to Thor. “I-I know I’ve no right to ask it of you, but please, Ulfr...please protect me.”
Most seems like bullshit, Loki telling him what he thinks Ulfr wants to hear, but still... “Not bad for an amateur.”
Loki stays down; his body begins to shake, the raw pains of it flooding to him in full. It isn’t the beg he was just forced into, it’s that Ulfr so easily accepts it. Surely he know it’s false, that thralls are be punished for such a wretched show, but Ulfr accepts it with a smile. It’s a relief and the relief comes with the realization he’s not gotten such a thing in many weeks, maybe months, and he may never get it again.
“Look at me, Loki.” The voice is stern, but still soft, and Loki obeys before the collar has to press him. Ulfr takes a breath, gives a sigh, as he leans forward. “Don’t move.” Because he guesses the instinct will be to fight, to flinch.
The god shivers anticipation, watches hand as it gently presses thumb against his busted lip. Eyes widen as lip heals, as the comforting energy spreads throughout. Skin pulls together, muscles sooth, mind grows light, but collected. He doesn’t notice his own change - the blueing of skin, reddening of eyes, the appearance of ridges. Without realization Loki’s Jotun lips part slightly, move to capture the other Jotun’s thumb between them.
Ulfr holds his breath with his gaze as he feels Loki tongue press against the tip of his finger, his teeth grazing the pad. He knows it may well be the Thrall Collar, urging Loki to be submissive, to appease, to pleasure, but that doesn’t make it any less enjoyable. Other hand strokes Loki’s head to smooth and clean hair, brushes past collar to soothe raw skin underneath, rubs down back, healing and cleaning as it goes. Head lowered, breathing in the scent of his former king’s hair, fingertips stretch to reach the top curve of buttocks.
Loki shudders as that area also heals, inside and out. He lowers his head. “Please don’t leave me to this,” he mutters against his former (still?) rival’s lap. “I will not survive it.” Without his magic, his freedom, his fight...without someone to protect him Loki will not survive what others may plan.
“When on the block I suggest you not look others in the eye. That you look broken, submissive,” Ulfr whispers against silky black hair. “I suggest you hide your face if you can...we may outbid most, but not all.”
Loki’s hand grips the ankle of the other. “P-Please...Ulfr...” Loki is gently maneuvered off and away so that he settles into a ball on the floor. He hides himself, hides tears. “Please...” Just...Please...
“Return to your human form.”
The order is direct, clear, but makes Loki shudder. He did not know he’d turned and is certain he cannot use his magic to turn back...yet the binding does not attack as he attempts to do just that. Loki watches in awe from within his curled up position as he’s allowed, able, to use his magic in order to return to his usual appearance. He straightens up on knees, looks to Ulfr to answers.
Yet Ulfr avoids answering to stand, chair fading in a wave of his hand. He shifts in his look at Loki, who’s eyes have dropped an appropriate ways down to satisfy the collar’s rules. “Bold of you to presume you’re the only one who’s dealt with the dark underbelly of the universe.”
Hardly an answer - the man knew more than Loki did of this collar, its magic - but it must satisfy for now as the Thrall Collar will not allow Loki to press further and Ulfr is clearly unwilling to share. “Ulfr...Sir...”
Ulfr turns only after stepping out of the container. He smiles. “Save your strength, Loki. It’s going to be a long day.” A long life, most likely.
First and foremost I fully acknowledge I was terrible to Loki - that was the point, lol! @manip-loki enjoys whump and so whump she shall have...I just hope it was enough to to satisfy, haha! Second this is a sneak peak of what I’m planning for the FrostBitten sequel but don’t hold me to this as things can change. Again, the genius concept of a Thrall Collar come from @endlessstairway, who’s been lovely enough to allow others such as myself to play with the idea as well. Ba-Bani is a militaristic alien race so I figured they’d make good guards, lol! Lastly, no idea why things got weirdly intimate between Ulfr and Loki at the end or the full story behind Ulfr’s experience with these collars, but I suppose we’ll all find out eventually, LMAO!! 😉
(Gif made by me via two gifs I found on Google.)
Tagged: @manip-loki @welcome-to-fangirl-hell @chibiyanai @wadeyouwitch @creedslove @lady-crowned-with-stars @moonfaery @annievvv7 @ladyfluff @holykryptonitekitten @lokilvrr @janebrownnie @lokis-little-kitten @alexakeyloveloki @theangelsfightwithdevils @the-blue-tiefling @lokis-lady-death @dangertoozmanykids101 @prometheasmother @vethrvolnir @wintertink @amethyst-dreams-and-candy-canes @drakonwild @starscreamloki @hiddles-rose @the-lady-witchitery @galaxies-inside-my-head @jackheart180 @lukeevansandjdmobession @fassyownsmyassy …I tagged everyone who requested to be tagged in FrostBitten!!
