The chains dug into his wrists, but Loki barely registered the pain. There were more immediate concerns.
Such as how Thor had him pinned down and prone. Or the shredding of his clothing by each of Thor’s fistfuls. Or how his baleful threats went ignored even as they later diluted into desperate pleas and much later resigned silence; interrupted only by the painful sound of tearing fabric and his sharp sobs, muffled by the pillow he’s burying his face into as he half-hoped to suffocate himself dead faster than Thor could strip off his diminishing layers.
Loki lashed out with an infuriated kick as Thor’s weight shifted to discard the tattered remains of his breeches; but being able to see nothing from his position the kick maimed only air and his blistered pride. ”Stop resisting,” Thor commanded, pinning his flailing legs down again. “I rather fancy your legs and it would be a pain to break them.”
“Charming, Brother,” Loki managed a breathless snarl. “Is that how you persuade your wenches to lie still long enough for you?”
Thor chuckled darkly as he ran coarse fingers along the mouthwateringly pale skin of his brother’s backside. “I treat my women with reverence. As for my wench…” Bending down, he sunk greedy teeth into the soft, succulent buttocks and lapped wildly with a ravenous tongue at the already very moist crevice between them; smugly pausing when a long, shuddering gasp escaped Loki. “I don’t think he needs persuading at all.”
Loki would usually shoot mocking praises to such a rare display of wit from Thor, but now was a particularly unusual moment and he had naught but silent curses. “You will pay for this,” Loki hissed through clenched teeth, each syllable coated with as much venom as he could muster. “I shall remember this day, and by the sharpest of the Gjöll I will make you pay tenfold.”
Thor growled in retort–all business now–and roughly clasped the back of Loki’s neck in a massive, choking grip; effectively silencing the smaller brother as he shoved those endless legs apart with an impatient knee.
“You will remember only the arc of my length and the heat of my seed when I’m done,” Thor’s voice had dipped alarmingly low and Loki felt a feverish chest pressing against his cold, damp back before a heated breath caressed his ear. “They will be sternly taught to you until you’re well learned.”
Loki is the Philosopher King 