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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.

Chapter List
- 3
- 4
- 5
Disclaimer: I do not own The Avengers, nor do I make money off of this story.

Warning: Non-consensual, blood play, humiliation

The Chitauri’s Revenge

Chapter 4

Loki’s body ached as he hung from his shackles. The blood that had been dripping from his fingers now coursed down his arm and along his chest. It was irritating, but the least of his worries. He knew that whatever the Chitauri had planned would hurt far more than being strung up. Yet, the Chitauri had not touched him since it repositioned him. It made him undeniably nervous. Perhaps it was looking him over, debating on where to start and how to cause the most pain. He almost wanted the Chitauri to start, just to get it over with—just to be left alone.

Moments ticked by, and the Chitauri watched Loki squirm. Not physically, though, but it could tell that Loki’s thoughts were running rampant. It finally took a step forward, and was surprised when Loki did nothing. He did not flinch, he did not look up. He simply stared ahead, defiant, even in chains. It amused the Chitauri. That was good. It did not want Loki’s struggles to stop. Not yet. It looked over Loki’s body, from the bite in his arm, to the trail of blood that slid down his chest, to the sharp curve of his hip bones. He was gorgeous in his own right, and it was thrilled to have him.

After considering its options, the Chitauri moved its hand to Loki’s chest. It watched in fascination as its fingers spread the blood over the pale skin. The crimson color was stark against the paleness of his skin, and it was thrilling. It slicked some of the blood over one of Loki’s nipples, and grinned as he shuddered in response. Eager to see more of his reactions, the Chitauri bent down and slid its tongue over the bloodied nipple. The chains jerked, rattling as Loki tried his best to move away from the warmth of its tongue. The flesh hardened, and the Chitauri brought its teeth down on it hard enough to split the skin. Loki jerked again, the gasp of pain and faint pleasure hidden by the muzzle.

Shame and embarrassment were two emotions that Loki was not familiar with. His body did ache, and he craved to be free, but the sudden assault was both painful and pleasurable. It was not supposed to feel good. His body was betraying him, and as the Chitauri’s tongue slid over the bite, as if to soothe it, Loki fumed. He scowled as much as he possibly could, hatred for himself and the race he was determined to destroy. Another bite made him flinch, and he was glad that his body was becoming accustomed to its teeth. They were sharp and precise, sinking into his skin with ease. The wounds burned as the teeth slipped away, and Loki prepared himself for another rush of pain. When it didn’t happen, he opened his eyes to look ahead of him.

Loki’s eyes were piercing. They were sharp, narrowed, and full of hatred. The Chitauri smirked as it straightened, its own eyes meeting his. In the darkness, it was not sure if Loki could see its eyes, but that did not matter. It could see him clearly—the rise and fall of his chest, the way his brows pressed together in anger, and the blood that decorated his body. It was not enough, though. The Chitauri wanted to see and feel more. It stepped close enough so that their chests touched. It could tell by the ripple in Loki’s muscles that he was straining, that he was uncomfortable with how close it was to him, and it loved it.

The Chitauri was not ignorant of sexual intercourse, but that had been with its own species. It was curious to see what Loki looked like underneath his pants. It slid an arm around his waist, its hand settling on his lower back. The skin was slightly chilly, but given that he was technically Laufey’s son, and not Odin’s, it made sense. The hem of Loki’s pants was loose, but not enough for the size of the Chitauri’s hand. Instead, it slipped two fingers underneath the fabric, over the smooth skin of Loki’s ass. It moved its fingers to the crevice, and smirked.

Loki tensed immediately when the Chitauri’s fingers found their way into his pants. He had no room to struggle, stuck between its chest and its arm. If he tried to move forward, his hips would grind against the Chitauri’s and its obvious arousal. If he moved backward, he would push into its hand. There was no escape, no winning, and he felt the rage he had held for the Chitauri melt into fear. He squirmed, despite knowing that it was useless. The fingers swept further into the crevice, its fingers pressing curiously around the flesh until it found what it was looking for. Loki sucked in a harsh breath through his nose, his arms involuntarily yanked as the blunt digit pressed and massaged the tight entrance of his body.

As the Chitauri pushed its digit against Loki’s flesh, but not inside of him, it hissed through its teeth. The pulsating arousal that moved through its body was almost unbearable. It wanted to claim him, to mark him, to make him beg for release. Yet, it knew that playing and forcing Loki to enjoy it would shred any type of sanity he had. It also acknowledged that pushing anything, whether its finger or its aching arousal, into Loki would be nearly impossible without lubrication. The Chitauri considered its options, and then grinned. Keeping its first arm tightly around Loki’s waist, it slipped its free hand to the wound on his arm. It was healing quickly, but that was not surprising. To encourage the wound to bleed, the Chitauri dug two of its fingers into the wound. The skin broke open, weeping crimson once again, and Loki grunted at the pain.

When the Chitauri was satisfied with how slick its fingers were, it shifted just enough to slip his other hand from Loki’s pants. The change brought a small wash of relief for Loki, but instead of removing its hand completely, the Chitauri brought its hand to the front of his pants and tore the fastening. It did not bother trying to properly remove them. After all, when would he need to be wearing pants? As the fabric began to fall from his hips, Loki thrashed. He kicked out one leg in a desperate attempt to hit the Chitauri, to force it off balance, to do anything to distract it from its goal. The Chitauri, surprised by the fury behind Loki’s attack, stumbled. Loki’s sudden panic startled what arcane he still managed to control, that was not taken from him by the Chitauri. It shot from his core to his arms, mending the wound shut and cracking the cuffs around his wrists. Loki looked up to see the cracks, and then lifted his body weight by his arms. With as much force as he could muster, he yanked downward. The cuffs cracked enough to let go of his wrists, and he grimaced as he crumpled to the floor.

The Chitauri was still gathering its wits as Loki pushed himself up onto his knees. The fall had not been painful—nothing in comparison to being thrown around by the Hulk. He looked down to his ankles, hoping that he had enough time to use what magic he had to crack them, as well. Just as he clasped his hands over the cuffs, the Chitauri stood and laughed. Loki looked up in shock, unable to fathom what was amusing about this situation. Of course, it was not the Chitauri who was struggling to get free. He cursed the distraction, and then looked down at his ankles again. One surge of magic would set him free. Just one.

“Little prince,” the Chitauri cooed, its voice a deep rumble within the cell. Loki froze. It had been the first time he had heard it speak, and he wished he hadn’t. Its voice held both amusement and warning. It was obvious that it was not concerned with him getting away. It was not worried about chasing Loki down—but it was irritated. He began to gather his magic, wanting at least an attempt at breaking the cuffs before the Chitauri decided to take control. After summoning enough energy, Loki shot what magic he could at the cuffs. They cracked beneath the pressure, but not enough to pull himself free. He tried again, and his heart skipped a beat when the cuffs broke.

The Chitauri stood a few feet from Loki, its strong arms crossed across its chest. It was amused, even more so when Loki managed to break the shackles. “Do you plan on running?” It murmured and took a few steps forward. Loki looked up again, his eyes becoming shiny with renewed fear as he fumbled to stand. The Chitauri chuckled again, “your struggle makes it more interesting. Please, run, little prince.”

Loki felt sick to his stomach. Despite the urge to run, he stood perfectly still. Perhaps fear cemented him into place, but Loki could not find the strength to move as he stared at the Chitauri. It moved forward, large strides eating the feet between them in mere seconds. When they were inches apart, Loki narrowed his eyes and tilted his head up to see the outline of the Chitauri’s face. He had used his ears to dictate where the Chitauri moved, and he knew that it was directly in front of him.

“Not going to flee?” The Chitauri murmured, and it reached up to slide his bloody fingers over Loki’s cheek. The fluid smeared against the pale skin, and a shudder went through its body. Seeing him so defiant, so determined to keep his composure, even against something as large and intimidating as the Chitauri, made its blood boil. It watched as Loki began to tremble, something that would be nearly invisible to an untrained eye. It chuckled and leaned forward to brush his lips over Loki’s ear. “I was going to be kind to you, my little prince. I was going to ravish you, show you what my kind can do…”

As the Chitauri spoke, breathing became increasingly difficult for Loki. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to flee, but he couldn’t convince his legs to work. They did not budge. It was as if the Chitauri was using arcane to keep him in place. If that was the case, why had it used shackles earlier? Was it just to rile him up? He flinched as the Chitauri slid its arm around his waist again. This time, however, his pants fell with ease as its hand moved back to his ass. Loki’s hands became fisted, his eyes glassy with unwanted emotions—fear, shame, embarrassment, anger. Being completely nude and unable to move his body was, admittedly, terrifying.

“I was going to be kind,” the Chitauri reminded Loki, spreading the globes of his ass. It prodded his entrance again, pressing against the tight muscle with its nearly dry fingers. Loki would have to pay for his actions, both in pain and blood. The finger prodding Loki’s entrance finally put enough pressure to slip inside. The body in the Chitauri’s arms jerked as much as it was allowed, and a noise of pain followed. It chuckled, pushing the finger in further. It was difficult because of the lack of lubricant, but that was Loki’s fault. “How does it feel, little prince? Do you like my finger inside of you?”

Loki gasped through his nose, the burning in his bottom making him shiver. The finger pushed further and his back arched, his hips pushed against the Chitauri’s in an attempt to get away. He would rather push against the creature’s arousal than against the finger invading his body. He decided to ignore the shudder coming from the Chitauri. It obviously enjoyed the way Loki squirmed against its body. It moved to push another finger against the first, testing the tight ring of muscle before forcing it to accommodate. Pain elicited another whimper from Loki as the second finger squirmed in next to the first. It was dry, it was incredibly uncomfortable, and Loki could do nothing about it.

The Chitauri moved both fingers as far as he could, watching Loki squirm and wince as he explored the tight heat. It wanted to change their position, to force Loki into a more submissive pose just to push his buttons. Instead, it moved its free hand to Loki’s left arm. He pulled it from its arcane cage, and then settled his forearm and hand against its chest. The look of surprise across Loki’s face was comical, but the Chitauri wanted Loki to resent himself. It wanted Loki to enjoy it and fall apart on the inside. It moved Loki’s other arm so he was leaning against its chest. Then, it pinned his body there with its magic. Now, from its point of view, Loki was bent slightly forward with his forearms and hands on its chest. It made it look like he wanted it, even if his eyes spit fire and his body trembled in pain, rage, and fear.

Those heated eyes shut tightly as the Chitauri began to spread its two fingers. Pain blossomed in his lower back and his ass, and he fought not to make any noise as the two fingers began to move in and out of his body. The Chitauri kept them spread, purposely, to cause pain and to perhaps draw blood. Each push made Loki flinch, and as its fingers moved out, another gasp rushed through his nose. It was incredibly uncomfortable, and he cursed behind the muzzle. He admitted to himself, resentfully, that it may have been easier and less painful if he had kept still.

Watching Loki twitch, gasp, and whimper under its fingers made its cock ache so much that the Chitauri clenched its jaw to prevent groaning. It closed the space between its fingers and then curled them, simply playing with the tight muscles. However, it did not expect the sudden clenching and the involuntary moan from Loki. The Chitauri seemed to have hit something that made Loki’s skin flush. The shock of pleasure made Loki’s eyes open, and fear was clearly evident in his features. He did not want to feel pleasure, and the struggle not to respond to the pulse was extremely difficult. It washed out the pain and stopped his thoughts, which hadn’t happened since he arrived in the cell.

Another shock of pleasure rolled through Loki’s body as the Chitauri’s fingers curled into that one spot again. It was momentary bliss—a few seconds of white-hot distraction that pulled him from his current situation. He was grateful and horrified, ashamed that he was responding to the Chitauri. He did not have time to think about it, though, as the fingers dug harder into him. He squeezed his eyes shut and moaned, actually appreciative of the contraption keeping his mouth shut. It muffled his moans and whimpers as the Chitauri continued to assault that small bundle of nerves.

“You do like my fingers inside of you, my little prince,” the Chitauri murmured in amusement. It looked over Loki’s shoulder, the expanse of his back, to where its fingers slid in and out of the tight hole. Just watching the way his body swallowed its fingers made it groan. Its own cock was straining against the cloth that covered it, and it could feel the liquid already dampening the skin. It wanted to be inside Loki, but it was enjoying seeing him struggle with the pleasure that was obviously wrong. The Chitauri moved its free hand from Loki’s side to his cock, and it found that he was hard. His whole body flinched as its fingers curled around the thickness, testing it in his palm, running the pad of his finger over the head. There was a small amount of liquid there, and the Chitauri did not doubt that the pleasure Loki was experiencing was also causing him great distress.

It was not right. Loki should not be responding in such a disgusting manner. He recognized that he had not had sexual intercourse, or anything close to it, in a century or so. He had been more concerned with his arcane and finding ways to present himself as a better heir to the throne than Thor. Yet, he had never expected to be here, frozen against one of the large Chitauri with its fingers delving into him and its other hand squeezing and pumping his cock. It drove him insane both physically and mentally. His body wanted it, craved it, but his mind threw a screaming fit about the loss of control and the ugliness that was the Chitauri and its race. He had no power, and the hold and position the Chitauri kept him in proved it. It was a sure way to make Loki understand that he was the captive.

The two fingers that abused his insides slowed for a moment, and it gave Loki a chance to gather his thoughts. He opened his eyes, even if he knew that it was pointless. The Chitauri in front of him was rigid, its chest rising and falling sharply. It was as if the Chitauri had no control over its own desire. It gave Loki some leverage—while this was happening against his will, he was enticing enough to make the Chitauri lose some of its self-control. Perhaps at some point he could use that to his advantage, even if it did make him sick to his stomach. He had not used his body for trickery in a long time, and he was sure it wasn’t as perfected as his spoken arcane, but he was willing to do it to escape this hell.

“What are you thinking about, little prince?” The Chitauri teased, realizing that Loki had gone partially soft in its palm. Loki had to be scheming. His eyes were bright and calculated. It could see behind the green that thoughts were once again processing at a quick pace. “What could be so distracting that this,” the Chitauri punctuated his word with a thrust of his fingers, and Loki whimpered, “Is not pleasing you?”

Loki scowled behind the mask, and the Chitauri was quick to see it. It smirked and then shrugged its big shoulders. It was casual, as if they were having brunch or talking about their hobbies. His scowl grew in intensity, even as the Chitauri chuckled. “You are interesting. One moment you are whimpering in my arms, the next about to slit my throat. You are truly an enigma.” The Chitauri removed its fingers from Loki, who grimaced at the odd sensation. It was strange to feel that emptiness after being filled, but he was thankful. The hand holding his cock left, and for a moment, Loki felt he could breathe.

Taking Loki in this position would be impossible, and the Chitauri was going to take him. Over and over, until all Loki knew was its hands, mouth, and cock. It grinned at the idea of using him for every carnal urge it had. He would be its play thing for as long as he was imprisoned. The Chitauri looked over Loki’s body—his flushed cheeks, his fierce gaze, the rise and fall of his chest as he struggled to keep himself calm. It was beautiful.

The Chitauri grabbed Loki’s shoulders and twisted him around. He stumbled, but its hold kept him from falling. The noise of irritation from him was amusing, but it wasn’t finished yet. The Chitauri kicked the back of Loki’s knees, its arousal spiking as it watched Loki fall to the ground with a grunt. He had caught his body with his hands, so he was splayed out in front of it, completely and utterly vulnerable. The ground below his hands and knees was cold, yet he could feel sweat beading down his spine.

“You are truly astounding, my little prince,” the Chitauri cooed as it kneeled in between Loki’s legs. It pushed his thighs apart with its own, its gaze dropping to the globes of his ass. They were milky white, pale in comparison to the depth of its blue skin. It settled its hands on the globes, and then spread them apart. A shudder racked the body it was violating, and its cock throbbed at the idea of taking that tight hole. It had squeezed so deliciously around its fingers—it could only imagine what it would feel like around its cock.

Loki fought hyperventilating. He was once again unable to move, his body forced into a position that clearly presented him as a submissive. His mind was beginning to distance itself, hiding from what was happening, and what would eventually happen. He had never been one to run, unless it benefited him, and this was one of the times he would have run—as fast as physically possible. Nausea coursed through his body as his ass was spread. He gagged, and instinctively swallowed to prevent throwing up. His eyes watered, his heart pounding wildly against his chest. He began to plead, repeatedly, for Thor to burst through. He did not care if this would be degrading, if he would never live it down, if Thor pitied him with his big, sympathetic eyes. He needed Thor, as much as he hated to admit it. Thor was the only one he could swallow seeing him in this type of situation.

The Chitauri slid its hand down to free its own erection, and it bobbed against its stomach. It may have punished Loki with dry fingers, but it knew that taking him dry with its cock would hurt it as much as it would him. Instead of trying to slip in dry, it took out one of its many weapons decorating its body. It looked close to a dagger, but the edges were curved like a wave until it hit the sharp point. After weighing the weapon in its hand, the Chitauri brought the sharp blade against the small of Loki’s back. The blood blossomed along the wound, and it watched in fascination as it began to slip down his sides. The cut was three or four inches long and wide enough to cause a significant amount of blood flow. Yet, Loki made no noise.

Instead of sinking its fingers into the wound, as the Chitauri had done previously, it slid its hand over the swell of blood. It was warm, thick, and smelled heavy to it—as if Loki’s blood was infused with spices, heavy with liquor. The perfect blend. It shuddered in anticipation, removing its hand to pump the blood over its cock. The color, it admitted, was prettier against Loki’s skin than its own, but that did not matter. After thoroughly coating its cock with his blood, it leaned forward enough so that its chest touched Loki’s back.

The contact made Loki flinch. He may not have made a sound when the blade dug into his flesh, but he truly wanted to groan. He wouldn’t admit that he wanted to cry out, that it indeed had bubbled up into his vocals. It was amazing that he had muffled it, and he was glad that he still had some control over what was happening to him. Loki could only imagine what was happening behind him, but by the sound of the grunts, the Chitauri had to be touching itself. Loki scowled at the idea, angry that his body was such a delicacy to the creature, and even angrier at the idea that he had enjoyed some part of it only moments before. However, Loki knew he would not enjoy the next part of its plan.

The Chitauri was not certain if Loki realized he was trembling. Perhaps he had so much now that it felt natural. It wasn’t complaining. After all, watching him twitch and shake underneath its hands was an extreme turn on. It let its breath brush over Loki’s neck, its lips then connecting to his shoulder as it positioned the blunt head of its cock against his tight hole. It heard a gasp, and that was all it needed to push past the first tight ring of muscle. The heat was overwhelming, swallowing bit after bit of its cock as it pressed forward. It knew Loki tried his best not to make noise, but the whimper was loud, even behind the metal so cruelly attached to his face.

The pain was nearly unbearable. Loki felt as if his insides were being torn apart, and each movement, no matter how small, made him groan. The stretching was extremely uncomfortable, and the pain was similar to a fire burning him inside out. It felt like eons passed, the Chitauri slowly pushing the entirety of its cock into his body. When Loki felt the heat and brush of its sac, he let out a harsh sigh through his nose. It was all the way in, seated still, as if gracing him with time to adjust. It did not make sense to him, but in some disgusting way, he was grateful. Perhaps it was because he was heaving so harshly. Maybe the Chitauri noticed his muscles were so rigid that it was causing spasms.

The stillness didn’t last. The tight heat was too much for the Chitauri already. He had only stilled to stave off his own orgasm, and Loki’s noises only made it harder not to cum inside of him. It hissed through its sharp teeth, and slowly began to pull its cock from his body. The muscles pulled on its cock, making it difficult not to thrust in immediately. It wanted this to last, but the first time it took Loki may be the quickest. It snarled beneath its breath in frustration, but gave into the urge to simply fuck him raw. Its thrust was swift, hard, and it relished the cry that came from Loki. It pulled out again, the blunt head resting at the tight entrance, before shoving its hips forward.

Another cry rang from Loki, and the Chitauri groaned deeply in satisfaction. It began its quick pace, pushing its cock to the hilt, letting its balls hit Loki’s thighs, before pulling back enough to feel the cool air on its cock. It thrust again, and all thought about torturing Loki slowly dissolved. It resulted in it relying on one simple need: to fill him to the brink with its seed, to mark him as its plaything. The Chitauri lifted itself so that it could grasp Loki’s hips. Its gaze dropped to the hole that was straining to accommodate its girth and length, and it shuddered. It kept watching as it began thrusting, the constant heat and then chill making it tip its head back in ecstasy. This was perfect, exactly what it had thought Loki would feel like.

Each thrust sent Loki a little closer to unconsciousness. He had tried desperately not to respond, to keep his composure, but the lack of food, mixed with the intense pain and warring emotions, made his mind fade. At this point, he was simply trying to keep his ground. The magic kept his elbows locked, and he knew that if it let go, he would end up with his cheek pressed against the ground. He was thankful, even with his mind so weary, that he could at least stay up. It was what kept the small amount of dignity that he had intact. Each thrust made him feel as if he lost some piece of his sanity.

It was fortunate for Loki that the Chitauri had waited so long to take him. If it had any sooner, it would have lasted much longer. As it gripped his hips and tugged him back into each thrust, tightness began coiling into its balls. It knew it was close, and it growled, much like an animal, as its thrusts became more forceful. Loki’s knees pushed against the ground, edging forward with each brutal movement. Sweat and blood mingled on his back and slipped down his sides, landing with small plinks on the cell floor. The final thrust came at random, the tightness uncoiling in the Chitauri’s balls as it filled Loki’s body with its essence. It panted, watching as the amount of its seed overloaded Loki’s body and began to ooze and slip down the crevice of his ass.

It was truly a sight to behold, and the Chitauri groaned again as its cock pulsated. Just seeing its seed on Loki and watching him tremble in an effort to keep himself still made it want to fuck him all over again. But the Chitauri knew that he would not be able to handle it. Not so soon. It took a few moments for it to catch its breath, and when it did, it pulled its still swollen cock from Loki’s body. Knowing that he was far too exhausted to fight, the Chitauri withdrew what magic was holding him up. He crumpled, at first attempting to catch himself. When the effort failed, he fell forward and grunted in pain. He did not move, but his muscles were free now to twitch, spasm, and shake as fresh waves of pain began rolling over him.

“That was perfect, my little prince,” the Chitauri murmured, and it smirked at the look Loki shot him—half-enraged, half-exhausted. It knew he would need sleep, and perhaps food, to recover from what it had done to him. It also knew that leaving Loki unchained was reckless. Even in this state, the trickster would find a way to escape. The Chitauri put its cock away and then reached for another pair of cuffs. He pulled them from the wall and walked steadily over to Loki. It considered its options for a moment. It felt that if it wanted Loki to begin wanting nothing but it, a little kindness would go a long way. It would also mess with his head, which was the Chitauri’s goal in the first place.

Loki grunted as the Chitauri tucked its hands under his arms and pulled him up. Pain raced up his spine, and he struggled to breathe. He could feel liquid dripping out of him and he hated it. He hated that he was so exhausted, he hated that he felt he needed help. He hated being helpless. The Chitauri pulled him across the floor, through his own blood, and settled his limp body against the corner. It took his wrists and cuffed them, sealing it with more magic than they previously held. It knew better now—Loki still had partial power over some of his arcane, and it was not about to take a chance to lose him. It connected the middle link to a device on the cell wall. His arms were held above his head, but not far enough to strain them. His elbows could still bend, at least.

“I will be back,” the Chitauri informed him, and smirked at the look of acidity Loki shot him. Even tied up, ravaged, and in pain, he was still defiant. It didn’t expect any less. The Chitauri leaned down far enough to slide its fingers over the metal of the mouth piece. “Next time, if you behave, I may remove this.” It smirked in amusement. “I would put it to good use.”

The Chitauri left after his last comment, and Loki still couldn’t relax his muscles. His head fell back against the wall with a solid ‘thunk,’ and his eyes fluttered shut as exhaustion began to pull a dark cover over his conscious. If he had any energy left, or any possibility of thought, he would have noticed the few tears that slipped from the corners of his eyes.
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The Chitauri's Revenge