Chapter Text
Loki learned soon enough that keeping his master happy was always the better choice.
Though, of course, that was not always a guarantee.
He felt a kiss below his ear, a nose nuzzling his jaw, and Loki leant into the touch accordingly, his eyes at half mast. His master chuckled behind him, nipping his lobe and shifting on his seat as he focused his attention to the room in front of them.
His master was kind and sweet, at least most of the time. Loki knew he ought to be content, and he always crushed any negative thoughts the moment they appeared: what would it help, to grow bitter and resentful towards the one who owned him?
Life on Midgard, with Anthony Stark, was far better than anything else he had experienced: he was fed regularly, dressed in the most lavish of silks, doted on like a prized treasure.
Adored.
Besides, he even got to sleep in a real bed – and wasn’t that just delightful?
An ugly-looking man spoke in a loud voice, jostling Loki out of his thoughts and violently pulling him back to the present: he felt his master’s hard cock, nestled comfortably inside his hole.
Well, perhaps not comfortably for Loki, but what did it matter? He had been told to sit there and be quiet while Anthony dealt with the council, and so he was.
And as usual, when the council met, they spoke of politics, of the economy, of war.
When he first arrived in Midgard Loki had tried to pay attention, to listen in and gather information, but soon enough learned he was better off wandering in his own head: withdrawing himself from their words and only focusing on keeping his master happy.
Anthony’s happiness came first, always, without a doubt.
It hadn’t been an easy lesson to learn, but he learnt it all the same, because when Loki thought too much about anything besides his master’s pleasure, he always got himself into trouble.
The first time he had slipped up had been after he was used, and made a comment to his master about the war on Muspelheim.
Anthony had looked at him with such nothingness in his gaze that Loki had recoiled, and then his master simply said: such a delightful little slave .
Somehow it sounded like a threat.
Two more times that had happened, and Loki thought it would always be the response he received; but of course, as usual, he had been wrong.
The fourth time Anthony had uttered the same words his expression had been hard. They fell asleep on the bed, and Loki woke up to iron sentries dragging him by the ankles, his naked body on display for everyone to see in the corridors, his tears and wails ignored.
They took him to the servants’ quarters and trapped him in a pillory, before announcing to all present that he was to be used as they pleased, and that they were welcome to remind the slave that it was pleasure he needed to focus on.
It hadn’t been easy to accommodate all the cocks that sank inside him that day, taking him over and over, spilling their seed one after the other and breaching him open. It hadn’t been easy to hear the scathing words of servants, which reminded him of his station – undeniably below even them. It hadn’t been easy to feel all those hands and fingers touching him everywhere, squeezing his balls to the point of agony, tugging his caged length until it became red and sore from the treatment.
After that Loki hadn’t been able to walk, and the iron sentries had dragged him back to his master’s bed by the ankles once more; though by that point Loki had not cried, had not whimpered, had not said a word.
It’s so painful, isn’t it? His master had said, touching his torn and bleeding hole with probing fingers, such a delightful little slave, no need to concern yourself with anything, do you understand?
And then his master had sheathed himself inside, seeking his pleasure and running his hands over his property; kind, sweet words slipping past his lips, giving Loki the warmth he so desperately needed.
Delightful little slave, beautiful treasure; your master loves you, don’t you know?
Loki now understood that it had been a well-deserved punishment, because he had been thinking about something other than Anthony’s happiness.
How silly of him, wasn’t it?
Loki felt his master’s hand travel to his mouth then, and took the fingers that slipped inside without complaint. His eyes no longer registered the looks the council gave them, so used he was to being handled around others.
He suckled them, and when Anthony’s other hand patted his belly he wiggled in response, moving the way he knew his master enjoyed. The cock inside him was large, and had started throbbing not long before.
That was always a sign that Anthony was getting bored.
The councilmen were always quick to change subject or offer different options whenever Anthony focused more on his slave – not that Loki noticed, of course.
His master’s pleasure was his only concern.
Anthony had a talent for training his slave, and Loki was grateful for it: what would be of him, had he not learned such precious lessons?
The fingers inside his mouth withdrew and travelled down to his cock, probing and tugging at the cage that contained his length. Loki moaned then, because his master liked it when he did, and rested his head back on Anthony’s shoulder.
“Are you hungry, darling slave?” his master asked in a husky voice, and Loki said yes.
It did not matter whether he was or not, because Anthony liked it when his treasure was fed.
Loki immediately buried his panic the moment he saw a servant bring them boar.
Anthony liked him slender and toned, but sometimes enjoyed feeding him for weeks on end without forcing him to exercise. Loki would get larger: his belly, hips and thighs growing. Anthony would fuck him a few times like that, his hands grabbing every excess of skin delightedly while they cuddled or fucked, and it was inevitable that he would grow bored.
Whenever his master grew bored of the extra weight, Loki would be forced to exercise several hours a day, often with different kinds of encouragement.
And, oh, no one had ever accused his master of lacking creativity.
So many ways had Anthony devised to encourage him, but one in particular Loki disliked: he would be forced to do pull-ups without any rest in between, and beneath him would always be a large dildo: small at the top and large at the bottom. It was impossible to maintain his hold throughout the hour they kept him there, so it always ended up with him falling onto the toy, his hole spread wide open and a scream pushing past his lips.
Anthony rarely watched him exercise, but always did then; his pleased smile the only comfort Loki felt.
He opened his lips dutifully when his master brought a piece of boar to his mouth, ensuring the fingers slipped inside.
Anthony liked it when that happened, and so Loki ensured that it did.
The councilmen kept speaking, but the slave only focused on eating: bit after bit, he took in as much food as his master gave him; sometimes wiggling his hips and relishing the moan he elicited.
It was delightful to feel so adored, so used, so prized.
Unable to help himself, Loki’s hand grabbed Anthony’s wrist right before it went for another piece, pushing his master’s fingers further inside and running his tongue around them, his hips moving sinuously on the cock that pierced him.
“Delightful little slave,” Anthony whispered breathlessly, and Loki’s eyes almost rolled inside his head at the praise.
The council meeting ended soon after, but Loki only noticed because his master grabbed his caged length, tugging it painfully. He allowed himself to cry out in pain, because Anthony seemed to be in the mood for it.
When the others were still leaving, Anthony ordered him to rise to his feet.
Loki contained the grimace as he lifted off the length that had been piercing him for over an hour, his hole gaping painfully at the sudden emptiness. He did not have the time to focus on that sensation much, though, because a hand suddenly pushed him, making him trip and fall down the steps, hitting his head on the floor and gasping for breath.
The laughter around him did not register, busy as he was with the pain in his head.
Loki had not noticed losing consciousness after that, but certainly noticed the cock in his ass when he regained awareness.
Though it would have been natural to scream at the pain, Loki was well-trained enough that it was a moan that escaped his lips, for Anthony was incredibly good at training his slave, and Loki would never disappoint his owner.
“Back to Earth?” Anthony asked between gasping breaths, and Loki nodded, wiggling his hips back against the painful length that breached him open. “You were so loose after the meeting,” his master said conversationally, his hands gripping Loki’s hips. “And even looser when you passed out. Tighten up for me, darling slave.”
Loki did not even think as he did what his master asked, clenching his muscles and being rewarded with a breathless moan. He almost lost consciousness again, knowing himself the reason.
Anthony fucked him for a long time, and Loki wondered why. Usually, whenever he was told to warm his master’s length, Anthony would come in mere minutes as they fucked, and yet this time around it was draggin–
Lasting longer, Loki corrected absently in his head.
That’s when he realised: there was wetness between his thighs and on his back, as well as some soreness in his throat.
He must have been out cold for a long while, if his master had used him so much.
When Anthony finally came, it was with a hoarse grunt and a bite to Loki’s shoulder.
“Thank you, master,” Loki said, his voice sweet and his ass clenching around the softening length, milking Anthony because he knew that’s what his master liked.
Anthony chuckled in response, pulling out and slapping his ass.
Loki remained where he was – he hadn’t been ordered to move, after all. He ignored the throbbing pain in his head, and the crusty blood that had dried over his face.
Anthony liked it, sometimes, when his slave looked all bashed.
He felt a large plug nudge at his hole, and whimpered freely when it was pushed all the way: his master was always delighted when Loki expressed his pain after a long fuck, always relishing the result of his careful work.
When he was ordered to stand up Loki struggled; the plug inside of him was large, too large, forcing tears out of his eyes.
“Is it too much?” Anthony asked, and Loki almost melted at the sweetness in his master’s voice.
“No, master, of course not,” he replied, his voice broken and his expression drawn up.
Anthony’s smile was gentle as he tucked a strand of hair behind his slave’s ear.
“It’s too much, I know,” he said after a beat, then wrapped his arms around Loki tightly, one hand travelling down to probe at the plug there. “Would you rather sit on my cock?”
Loki gasped, his eyes growing wide at his master’s question.
“Of course,” he said, his bewilderment clear. “There is nothing I could ever wish for more.”
Anthony chuckled, licking his thumb and smearing the dry blood on Loki’s temple.
“Let us go to the next meeting, then,” he said, grabbing his slave’s arm and dragging him to the corridor. “You can sit on my dick when we make it there.”