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Loki sauntered into a golden hallway that seemed to shine with fake happiness. That is what he would call Asgard, fake. It had only brought him anguish and irritation. Created holes in his bedroom wall and silent tears on his pillow. Even if he had the luxury to endulge in incredible food that made you believe in more than seven senses, wine that flowed into your body like the blood pumping through your veins. And even women, men and whatever else would satisy a persons needs. Nothing seemed to truly please him.
As he was deep into his haunting thoughts of his childhood and the memories of which would never leave these halls, he stopped in his tracks. There right infront of him next to a wooden bench with floral carvings laid a pair of high heels. The sun seemed to settle upon them through a stained glass window like a feather laid carefully on a puddle of water. The heel itself was sharp but elegant, tall and dark just like the colour of his hair. It curved so naturally and he found himself imagining how they would feel if he stroked the leather.
He combed his hair back and looked around, there was distant chattering but no one close enough to see him. Looking back at the shoes he gulped and bent over. Leaning forward and reaching his hand, one finger stretched out to touch them he felt like a tiger approaching it's prey. Or perhaps he was the curious herbivore a bit too brave for it's own good, and soon the beast he fancied would snap right back. It felt like time stopped the moment before the embrace, but then he felt it. The smooth but thick surface of the leather shoe sent a shiver down his body. A drop of sweat now fell from his forehead and landed on the tip of the dark beauty. He simply pressed his thumb against the salty water and rubbed it in.
After what seemed like ages together with footwear that strangely had caught his attention, he took a few more quick glances around the hall and then grabbed the top of them and began walking off. He worried for a bit that he would run into the very owner of said shoes, or just anyone. Because why would the son of Odin carry around a pair of high heels?
Luckily his speed saved him and he soon entered his bedroom. It was a surprisingly small bedroom, still grand but tinier than you would think. After all he is royalty. Though it never bothered him, he liked it that way. Tight spaces made him feel safe, even tight clothes. Perhaps that is the very reason these shoes put him in a trance like state. It was only him and the long leather fabric. He lowered himself once more to the ground, this time on his knees. And he pressed the shoes against his chest tighter and tighter. Untill he could hear the creaking of leather. Then slowly he grabbed the part that covers the leg and rubbed his cheek against it. A soft and slow whimper escaped his lips as he stroked them against his mouth.
A bulge was now very visible through his tight trousers, begging for release. And how could he be so cruel as to deny it it's freedom? Stroking his thigh all the way up to his crotch he began caressing himself. One hand stroking the fabric that sheltered his body, and his other hand stroked the fabric of the shoes. Moving like a snake he slithered from his knees down to his stomach, stretched out like a serpent in the sun he began rubbing against the emerald green carpet floor. As he pleasured himself he grabbed the high-heels, opened them up like an eager child at christmas and took a deep breath. He could smell the leather, slightly earthy with a hint of tobacco. And probably what he assumed, the feet of the owner. It only turned him on more.
After what probably looked like a strange wrestling game with a pair of shoes he began pulling his pants down, revealing what the bulge was hiding. Loki was almost surprised at himself, somehow it looked bigger than ever before or perhaps he just felt more turned on. Now half nude he watched the shoes spread out on the floor again. Slowly crawling towards them as his boner dripped with precum, leaving a trail of arousal after him. Grabbing one of the pair he opened it up and pressed himself inside of it. The sensation of the fabric made him arch his back and lean his head. A moan escaped his throat as he began stroking himself with the shoe. The very same throat that his free hand now crawled towards, ready to choke. Imagining himself being held back by a collar and leash like the good boy he was.
The masturbation session seemed to be never ending, everytime he felt like he would come he stopped himself and just watched as his member pulsated into it's soft insides. At first he figured he would end it there, cum in the high heels and never look back. But his lustful mind gave him plenty more ideas. Pulling his erected penis out from the shoes was not an easy task, he felt safe in there. More so than with any other person he had ever enjoyed making love with. He then stood from the floor he had been sat on as he pleasured himself. Now advancing towards a long mirror hung on his wall next to his queen sized bed covered in green silk. He took a seat on his soft bed, the icy sensation of the covers made his erection twitch. The shoes in his hands were carefully lowered down, and then he entered his left foot. Closing his eyes as he arched his foot with the heel, shuffling inside. A perfect fit. When he eventually got into the right shoe aswell he carefully stood from his bedside.
Loki was a natural, only ever having tried on his mothers high heels as a joke together with Thor when they were kids. This was essentially his first time. It could not even compete with other firsts in his life. The shoes carried a warmth with them, and stability even though the heels were incredibly tall. He wiggled a bit the first few steps but soon found the flow of them. A flow which carried him infront of the tall mirror. He looked himself in his eyes and then let them explore the rest of his body, especially his shoes. They ended right below his knees, and contrasted his skin as well as his hair did. Loki closed his eyes for a moment as he began stroking himself again. But not only that, his free hand travelled across his stomach and to his chest. Which now held two breasts, nipples as erect as his genitalia. Opening his eyes to himself masturbating, grabbing his breasts and rubbing his high heels together was a sight like nothing before him.
Panting heavily he continued stroking himself, rubbing his thumb against his head. Even pinching his nipples and grabbing his mid-lengh hair tightly. He no longer was able to hold himself tall and with a posture that told people he was a prince. He was basically starting to crumble. Hunched over, heels wiggling, hair infront of his eyes and deep moans vibrating from his core. With rapid arm movements he was now shaking, his knees had never felt so weak. And there it was, his release. A yell into the dark lit room of his escaped him as he fell on his knees. Breathing with his whole body, looking himself in his eyes between the hair strands covering him. This was an experience he would never forget, and the shoes, those he would keep.