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The car waiting outside was as expensive as the man’s suit. His stranger must have been a man of some means, by Midgardian standards. Thor’s curiosity only grew.
Once they were on the road, Thor turned to the man, watching him drive. There was something familiar about him. His eyes were hidden behind dark glasses and the brim of his hat was pulled down low on his forehead, but Thor catalogued the parts of his face he could see. The slope of his nose; the sharpness of his cheekbones; his deep frown lines. He was sure he recognized these features, though he could not place them. He had a feeling like it should have been obvious, and yet the answer eluded him.
“Though thou hast the apparent seeming of a stranger—still do I feel we have met in the past,” Thor said hesitantly.
The stranger gripped the steering wheel so tightly his knuckles turned white. “The past is as endless as the future! Many are the things that might have then transpired.”
It was neither confirmation nor denial (though the stranger’s physical agitation must have meant something of significance), but Thor was troubled by the timbre of the stranger’s voice more than he was frustrated by his vagueness.
“Thy voice!” Thor said, feeling a cold dread blossom within him. He must be mistaken! “The sinister aspect of thy bearing! They can only belong to one—to one whom I had thought long since banished by imperial Odin! And yet—”
Abruptly, Thor’s head swam like he had just downed an entire cask of ale. Wave after wave of fog rolled in, making him feel woozy and obscuring the discovery he knew he had just made. He tried to grasp it, but it slipped further and further away, and straining for it only made his headache worse.
“Damn.” He groaned in frustration and rested his head in his hands.
“Pardon me,” he told the stranger. “I feel rather strange.”
“No doubt you’re tired from today’s ordeal. Food should help restore you. Let me buy you some lunch.” The stranger's voice had not changed in volume, yet it seemed to come to Thor from very far away.
The stranger pulled into the parking lot of a diner, and Thor’s concern grew faint and was forgotten altogether by the time they parked.
-
Thor set upon his steak as soon as the waitress brought it to their table. The stranger ate nothing and did not even touch the steaming cup of coffee resting in front of him.
He had removed his hat and sunglasses when they went inside. Thor’s eyes slid over the shape of his hairline; the wrinkles at the corners of his eyes; his dark brows, lingering on none of these features.
“Do you feel better?” The stranger asked.
“Much.” Thor said. The fog in his mind had receded, and he could no longer even remember its cause.
“Good,” the stranger said. He was watching Thor intently, and Thor felt uncharacteristically self-conscious under his penetrating gaze.
Though he had already once been rebuffed in his quest to learn the stranger’s identity, back at the police station, he tried again. “Might I learn thy name?”
“In time,” the stranger assured.
“Whatever be thy name, thou art a good man,” Thor declared uneasily, beginning to suspect it was not true. What manner of man would conceal his identity thus without some sinister purpose?
It seemed to amuse the stranger greatly to hear Thor say so. He grinned broadly. Thor got the distinct impression of a cat playing with its prey.
He decided that he must not remain in the stranger’s debt any longer than necessary, nor allow what he owed to stack up any higher than it already had.
“I must thank thee for all that thou hath done for me, though I am afraid I have nothing to offer thee in payment for thy generosity,” Thor said cautiously.
“I’m sure we can work something out.”
-
The odor of stale cigarette smoke clung to every surface in the dingy motel room. This was no place for a Prince of Asgard. But Thor was no longer a Prince of Asgard, and what he had come here to do was nothing fit for a prince to be doing.
It was better here than in the stranger’s car. Here, at least, he had the luxury of privacy. He would not wish anyone to bear witness to his shame.
The stranger sat down on the edge of the bed and beckoned Thor to him.
Being ordered around by a mortal made Thor bristle with resentment, but Thor tamped it down and approached the bed. The stranger put his hands onto Thor’s shoulders and forced him to his knees between his spread thighs. His boldness rankled Thor, as did kneeling for a mortal, but he reminded himself that he had agreed to this, and the stranger had full authority over him, by his own consent, until their transaction was complete.
The threadbare carpet was harsh beneath his knees, and Thor shifted with physical discomfort on top of the mental.
The stranger unzipped his trousers, and Thor watched with some trepidation as his cock filled out in his hand. He was rather well-endowed, and Thor was certain he was going to have a difficult time fitting even half of it in his mouth.
“Well?” The stranger prompted. He sounded impatient, and he looked as nervous as Thor felt, though Thor could not fathom why.
Thor wrapped his hand around the base of the stranger’s cock and tentatively licked the head. It tasted like salt and skin and musk, and Thor was both mortified and relieved to find he enjoyed it.
The stranger grabbed Thor’s hair with his fist with an entitlement that Thor would ordinarily not have tolerated from anyone, much less a mortal, and guided his cock to Thor’s lips. Thor opened for him grudgingly.
Thor took as much of the stranger’s cock into his mouth as he could. He had no experience with this, but he had an idea of what he was meant to be doing. He bobbed his head, sucking tentatively, choosing to focus on the head and use his hand on the shaft.
After a few moments of Thor experimentally applying suction, the stranger groaned deeply and forced Thor’s head down on his cock.
Thor choked and pulled away, but the stranger didn’t let him go far.
He cradled the back of Thor’s head with one hand and held his cock in the other, rubbing the wet head all over Thor’s lips and cheeks, smearing them with spit and precum. Thor felt his face burning with shame and he closed his eyes to block the sight of the stranger’s hungry expression. It was clear this man enjoyed defiling him.
Thor was beginning to seriously regret this method of payment, but it would be dishonorable for him to go back on his word.
He felt the tip of the stranger’s cock press against his lips once more, and he parted them, bracing himself for what he knew was to come.
The stranger thrust violently into his mouth. Thor gagged again, but the stranger held his head in place while he bashed the back of his throat with the head of his cock. There were tears in Thor’s eyes by the time the stranger finally withdrew.
“Get onto the bed.”
It was more than they had agreed upon, but Thor did not protest, only silently got into position.
The stranger’s hands descended upon his hips, stripping his leggings and baring him to the cold air of the room. The stranger’s bony fingers kneaded the flesh of his hip with surprising force. An earlier concern prickled at Thor’s mind, but it slipped away again when he felt the head of the stranger’s cock line up with his hole.
This was unbecoming: on his hands and knees on a motel bed, about to let an anonymous mortal man take liberties with him that he had never allowed anyone to take. Doing this was beneath him, as a prince of Asgard and a peerless warrior. Yet he trembled with anticipation.
“Are you ready?” The stranger breathed in his ear. Thor nodded tersely, unsure if it would have made any difference had he said he was not.
The stranger’s cock pushed against him, and though Thor was tense, he yielded to the pressure soon enough. The slow slide was uncomfortable but thankfully not painful.
The stranger’s cock felt immense within him. He would have appreciated a moment to adjust to the intrusion, but he was granted no such mercy; no sooner had the stranger’s hips pressed to his arse than he withdrew again and slammed the full length of his cock back within Thor. His balls slapped heavily against Thor’s flesh with each stroke.
Thor was feeling the consequences of their minimal lubrication. The slide of the stranger’s cock was starting to burn.
But beneath that there was a pleasure building. The feeling of fullness was stimulating. Thor’s cock wasn’t hard, but it was swollen, and he was certain that he could come from this if the stranger was generous, though given the man's behavior thus far that seemed unlikely.
Thor had never before had a sexual encounter where his orgasm was not guaranteed, and it was both demeaning and exciting for his pleasure to be held hostage by his partner. The idea that he might not be granted release at all paradoxically increased his arousal.
He reached for his cock, abandoning his reservations about enjoying himself, but the stranger slapped his hand away and took its place.
“What’s this?” The stranger crooned, plastering himself to Thor’s back. “Are you hard for me?”
Not quite, but he quickly filled out in the stranger’s grip.
The stranger laughed triumphantly as he stroked Thor’s cock, not for a moment relenting in his thrusts. “Oh, this is rich,” he continued breathlessly. “I was content enough that you were willing to submit to me, but this is perfect. The Mighty Thor enjoys being fucked in his ass. And by a lowly human! Maybe this is why you’re always so insistent on remaining on Earth? So that you can continue whoring yourself out to mortal men?”
That laugh--! It was the stuff of nightmares. The spell over Thor’s mind shattered, and his earlier realization crashed back down on him like a bucket of ice water.
“Loki!” He gasped, struggling against the weight of his half-brother.
His pitiful efforts amused Loki. “Ha! Deprived of thy godly power, thou art no match for Loki, Master of Evil!”
Loki shoved Thor down into the pillows and drilled into him even harder. Thor’s weakened body felt the full force of each punishing thrust.
No matter how he thrashed, he could not free himself. He was trapped beneath Loki, and subject to the brutality of his whims.
“This is a new low, even for thee, Evil One!” Thor groaned. “Thou hast bewitched my mind and defiled my body!”
“This be my idea of mercy! I came here to destroy thee, but this hath proven a most worthy diversion!”
He dragged Thor into his lap and lowered him down upon his cock.
“Ride me,” he commanded.
Thor twisted in his lap, disgusted by the idea of actively participating in his own degradation at Loki’s hands.
Loki’s fingers closed around his throat and squeezed. His other hand tugged at Thor’s treacherous cock, which cared little that the fist around it belonged to his vile half-brother. “Mortal life is such a fragile thing! I could crush thy throat with ease in thy present state, and thus would end the life of Thor. Ride me.”
Thor assented, clumsily rolling his hips to meet Loki’s thrusts. Loki relaxed his grip on Thor’s neck and bounced Thor violently on his cock.
His thrusts were speeding up; he released Thor’s cock, abandoning him on the brink of orgasm, and focused on chasing his own pleasure, and moments later grunted and spent himself deep within Thor’s arse.
Loki rested for a moment with his forehead slumped against Thor’s back before pulling out and tossing Thor onto the bed.
Thor felt hollowed out. Loki’s seed trickled out of his sore, stretched hole, dripping onto the quilt below. Embarrassingly, he was still hard.
There was a flash of light, and Loki towered over him triumphantly, dressed once again in his princely regalia. Thor’s distorted reflection in his half-brother’s golden helm looked as rough as he felt.
“Well?” Thor demanded with as much venom as he could muster. “Now that thou hath thoroughly humiliated me, wilt thou now slay me, as thou hast long desired to do?”
Loki eyed Thor’s erection greedily. “Perhaps thy annihilation can wait.”