The Chitauri's Revenge | By : SaChanPwns Category: Marvel Verse Movies > Avengers, The Views: 7806 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1 |
Disclaimer: Disclaimer: I do not own The Avengers, nor do I make money off of this story. |
Disclaimer: I do not own The Avengers, nor do I make money off of this story.
Warning: Non-consensual, blood play, humiliation
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The Chitauri's Revenge
Chapter 3
Loki struggled to catch his breath. The Chitauri’s sharp teeth slipped from his skin, pain burning in its wake. When the creature’s lips formed a tight suction around the wound, Loki arched his back and tried to turn his entire body to the left, as if turning away from what was happening would make it any less painful. However, the Chitauri’s knee and thigh kept him firmly in place. Nausea once again swamped him. At this point, Loki could only think of ways to escape his chains and jolt for it. Hell, Loki would even welcome the sight of Thor, in all his obnoxious glory, bursting through the walls with his hammer swinging.
Another burst of pain shot through Loki’s arm as the Chitauri bit down over the same wound, forcing blood to seep over his porcelain skin. The Chitauri suddenly let the hard grasp on his jaw go. Loki’s head fell back against the wall, his eyes unfocused as he gasped through his nose. He fought not to make noise, but as the Chitauri’s tongue brushed through one of the deep wounds, he cried out. The noise was muffled behind the mask, and Loki felt the hard shudder from the Chitauri’s body. The alien was enjoying this—every flinch, gasp, and cry Loki made. Loki loathed him. When he escaped, and not if, this particular Chitauri would be the first to meet his wrath. Loki would sever his limbs and let him bleed out.
The Chitauri finally removed its mouth from Loki’s arm, and it was amused at how boneless the Asgardian became when it dropped his arm to the floor. It was limp, swollen from both the bite and the sucking. Seeing the mark on Loki’s arm sent a thrill through the Chitauri. Loki was a prince, or as close to one as he could get, and the Chitauri was proud that it could leave such an angry mark. It would no doubt be gone within the hour, but for now, it was happy with the results. The Chitauri could always make more marks—and it planned on it.
Loki’s lips thinned into a straight line and he concentrated on the area in front of him when the pain finally eased. In no way was he going to give the Chitauri anymore satisfaction than what he already had. He knew that his cry behind the muzzle was enough to make the Chitauri happy, and he hated it. Loki should not have responded the way he did, but the bite surprised him, and the sucking and licking of the deep wound was painful. It took a considerable amount of concentration not to buck against the Chitauri’s knee, which was still planted firmly against his groin. If only he could conjure his magic, if only he could do something. Unfortunately, the Chitauri were smart and powerful. The magic spell they had blanketed him with killed what powers he had. The Chitauri knew better than to leave Loki to his own devices.
It was becoming more difficult for Loki to concentrate on his surroundings. Going into deep thought was his only escape, and unfortunately, his biggest weakness. Perhaps that was the Chitauri’s goal—strip him of everything and leave him only to his thoughts, which may, eventually, destroy him. Loki would have frowned if his lips had not been sutured together behind the metal mask. Any movement hurt, but at this point, he was used to the coppery taste of his own blood rolling over his tongue and the throb along his jawline.
Loki’s musings had distracted him from the Chitauri, who eyed him like a starved animal. The Chitauri was thinking, that was obvious enough, but Loki could not guess his next move. That enraged him. He was always three steps ahead. It was how he managed to get this far. Of course, he hadn’t expected to be taken captive on the Chitauri’s ship. Now he felt more than just a few steps behind, especially as he shifted his gaze to look at the Chitauri’s outline. It was all he could see, and that made him nervous.
The Chitauri shifted its leg, purposely applying pressure to Loki’s groin as it leaned forward toward Loki’s ear. Its breath fanned over the flesh, followed by its lips. They were dry, but smooth, and it was amused as Loki’s muscles began reacting. They went rigid beneath its large body, and the Chitauri heard a deep snarl coming from beneath its body. It chuckled at the anger radiating from Loki, and then clasped a hand over the mask that kept the Asgardian prince quiet. The Chitauri maneuvered Loki’s head to the side, tilted enough to reveal the smooth, pale skin of his throat. It groaned at the idea of biting Loki, claiming him in the most animalistic way possible. Just to feel how smooth the skin was, the Chitauri slid the fingers of its free hand from just below Loki’s ear to the fabric that covered his shoulders. Loki’s armor was already gone, giving the creature easy access to his body, and it could tell that Loki knew that.
The more skin the Chitauri revealed, the more it felt its arousal pulse behind its clothing. Given that it had Loki’s shackled leg straddled, it also knew that Loki could feel the heat and the intense pleasure it experienced from exploring just that small bit of his body. Loki’s right shoulder, a part of his bicep, and his collarbone were strikingly pale against the darkness. The Chitauri was thankful it could see. Each slope of Loki’s body was breathtaking, from the curve of his neck to the dip along his collarbone. Absolutely perfect.
While the Chitauri looked him over, Loki fumed. He couldn’t turn his head, and he most certainly couldn’t budge. He was trapped underneath the Chitauri’s weight, and the hardness against his side was blatantly obvious. The thing was aroused, and on some level, that terrified Loki. He could manage torture, but the idea of something that large penetrating him created a tight knot in his gut. Loki was not ignorant when it came to sexual intercourse, but he refused to be some toy for a creature with less intelligence than his own brother. He snarled behind his mouth piece and attempted to jerk his hands free from the chains. It caused a flash of pain throughout his swollen arm, and it certainly did not dislodge the Chitauri. It only made it worse for Loki.
The Chitauri felt at this point, Loki should know what position he was in. The struggle was exciting, but he wanted his prey complacent for the time being. Instead of being jostled by Loki’s struggle, the Chitauri shoved its knee harder against Loki’s groin and brought his hand back. The blow was hard and swift. The back of its hand stung as it left the side of Loki’s face, who sat frozen, shocked at the sudden blossom of pain across his jaw and cheek. Fresh blood filled the inside of Loki’s mouth, and he struggled to swallow it. Both the pain and the effort to swallow made his eyes glassy with unshed tears. He fought to breathe through his nose, his chest rising and falling in sharp, erratic pumps.
Loki was still fighting to control himself as the Chitauri grabbed the thin fabric of his shirt. It held Loki in place with its knee as the shirt was ripped down to the fine lines of Loki’s hips. His pants fell just below the dip of his hip bone, and the Chitauri found that extremely attractive. However, in Loki’s odd position, it was hard to take advantage of his body. The Chitauri would have to fix that later, but for now, it would work with what it had. It watched with amusement as Loki swallowed more of his own blood. Loki’s expression was beautiful. His brows were held tightly together, his eyes closed tight. His black lashes lay against his flushed cheeks perfectly. The Chitauri would have loved seeing his lips parted, the blood slipping down his jaw and along his throat. At some point, it would have to remove the mouth piece. Not now, though. The Chitauri enjoyed the muffled noises. It was incredibly erotic, so it couldn’t imagine what Loki would sound like without the mouth guard. It would find out later.
The flow of blood finally died down to a manageable amount. Loki slid his tongue over the gash that the Chitauri had caused by back-handing him. It was a decent sized slice, but mouth and head injuries tended to bleed more than any others. He felt the need to struggle, but he did not want to get smacked again, or suffer whatever other punishments the Chitauri might think of. Not to mention, his gut and groin ached from the constant pressure by the Chitauri’s knee. Loki opened his eyes slowly, despite knowing it was useless at this point. He could not see the Chitauri properly, so there wasn’t a reason to open his eyes, but need overpowered logic.
The Chitauri chuckled at the change in Loki’s demeanor. His beautiful eyes were still sharp, still spat fury, but he stayed still. This was how the prince should be around the Chitauri. He should understand his place. The Chitauri slid its blunt fingers from the curve of Loki’s neck to his collar bone. The skin was warm, soft, and free of scars. Its fingers trailed from Loki’s collarbone to his chest, slipping over his nipple. It was strangely different than its own kind, but not in a negative way. The Chitauri’s finger slipped around Loki’s nipple, watching in interest as the nub tightened. Its lips split into a grin and it tightened its fingers around the sensitive skin, and a shock of arousal hit its body as Loki involuntarily arched his back. Those stunning eyes were closed tightly again, the wisps of his eyelashes pressing against the sudden rush of heat on his cheeks.
If just two fingers could make Loki squirm, the Chitauri mused about its mouth. Perhaps forcing pleasure onto the Asgardian prince would drive him mad sooner than actual torture would. However, the angle would not work. Loki’s arms were latched to the floor in front of him, his ankles shackled to the sides. The Chitauri needed to find a way to reposition the prince without giving him any chance to obtain the upper hand. To figure out a strategy, the creature picked itself up from Loki’s body and scanned him and the surrounding cuffs.
Loki finally found relief when the Chitauri stood. The pain in his gut and groin went from stabbing to a dull ache, but the pricks along his skin from his nipple being pinched remained. The act solidified Loki’s fears: the Chitauri planned on having him. He wasn’t stupid—he knew exactly what the Chitauri was doing. After making him twist like that, he doubted the Chitauri was leaving. He knew that he needed to change something with his cuffs, and Loki was determined to do something when he was free. Loki would exact his revenge, and the Chitauri would be eating his own tongue.
The Chitauri decided what it wanted to do. It kneeled in front of Loki, watching the Asgardian carefully as it moved its hands over the shackles. It was easy to remove them with its magic. The metal simply crumbled under its hands, but the Chitauri did not give Loki a chance to move back. It immediately grasped both of Loki’s wrists in one hand, amusement once again coursing through it as Loki snarled. The Chitauri stood, easily pulling Loki from the floor. Without his powers, Loki was surprisingly docile. The shackles on Loki’s ankles remained, keeping him in place as the Chitauri moved his arms above his head.
Loki’s muscles screamed as he was lifted from the floor. It had been days since he had moved properly, so Loki was not surprised when the muscle in his left thigh began to spasm. He lost the ability to bear weight, and as a result, his knee buckled. Loki attempted to put most of his weight on his right leg, locking his knee in place. His body teetered, but the Chitauri was quick enough to wrap its free arm around Loki’s waist. The Chitauri kept Loki’s body close to its own. The closer he was, the less damage he could do. Even as Loki squirmed, the Chitauri was able to latch his wrists into shackles above his head with a silent command over its magic.
The Chitauri stepped back to make sure Loki was strung up the way it wanted him. Loki’s arms were pulled taut enough that just the balls of his feet touched the floor. There was a little sway in the way Loki was hung, but the Chitauri felt that it would come in handy later. After all, it wanted to see Loki squirm and jerk underneath what it did to him. Its mouth watered as it took in its prize, from head to foot. Loki’s eyes were half-lidded, but they were still concentrated in front of him. His black hair fell forward, obscuring some of his face. Loki’s shirt hung in tatters around his shoulders. His pants fell below his naval, revealing the light dusting of hair that lead to his groin. Arousal pulsed behind the Chitauri’s pants. The thickness between its thighs had one and only need: to be inside the pale body in front of it. First, though, the Chitauri wanted to play.
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