Adult-FanFiction.org : Marvel 'Verse

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
- 6
- 7
- 8
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 7

The Chitauri left Loki in the room alone, but he was smart enough to know that the door had a significant ward to keep him inside. Exhaustion gnawed at his conscious, and he finally collapsed back onto the bed. His body ached, his mind feeble in his starved, sleep-deprived state. Darkness began to eat the edges of his vision, slowly but surely forcing him to let go of reality. As he did, Thor’s image played in his mind—his charming smile, the glitter in his eyes, and the welcoming offer of his hand. Loki took it, his need for warmth overpowering logic. He fell into sleep’s embrace, mumbling Thor’s name the entire way down.

You have failed us.

No, I haven’t.

You have, and you will pay.

Pain burst from one temple the other, and Loki was suddenly awake. He had been asleep for what seemed like days, and as the room registered, he gasped for breath. The bed was empty, which he was thankful for. He sat up slowly, a few drops of sweat slipping down his temples. He had woken up alone in the bed, but the room had a visitor. The realization dawned on Loki, and as soon as it did, he grasped the blankets and pulled them above his naked waist.

“You are awake.” The Other stared down at him, and Loki almost vomited. He had nothing to vomit, but stomach acid still crawled up his throat. It was in here and he had no protection, no hope for escape. “I told you that you would pay. Have you forgotten?” It smirked, its dagger-like teeth flashing at him. It moved forward like mist toward Loki, relishing in the fear that basked the area. It smelled sweet, and it was sure if it opened its mouth, it could taste it.

“I did—“ Do not speak! The voice in Loki’s head caused pain to blossom from the center of his skull to each side. It felt as if someone had delved a blade into his skull, and he struggled to breathe through the throbbing behind his eyes. The Other pushed its hand into Loki’s hair, its vicious talons digging until blood surfaced. Then it pulled, forcing Loki to stumble out of the bed. He was weak on his feet, swaying from lack of nutrition.

“You have no rights here, Loki Odinson,” It hissed, and tossed Loki against the wall. His chest hit it first, and before he could crumple to the ground, his body was held still by the Other’s magic. He could not move any of his limbs, and as he tried, pain followed. It only took a few jerks for Loki to realize it was not worth fighting, so he stopped struggling, seething between clenched teeth as the powerlessness of it all made his blood boil.

The first strike was powerful and shocked Loki. It was almost too surprising for him to feel the pain or even recognize what was happening. Another lash, and Loki’s jaw locked closed, his cry of pain muffled. It was then that he realized he was being hit with a whip. Yet, it was not visible. If he tried to look, there was nothing coming at him. It was simply the Other’s power, striking him, leaving welts. As the power lashed, it crisscrossed wounds, and his skin broke open. Blood began to weep from his wounds, but he refused to make any noise. Each lash was stronger, harder, and faster than the last. By the time they finally slowed, blood was tickling the back of his knees, and he was standing in a small pool of it.

It was astonishing that Loki had not passed out. He was close, however, his vision blurring frequently as he fought for purchase against the wall. He still had no power in keeping himself up, the Other doing that with ease. His back lay open, angry welts and tears in his skin stinging in the cool air. He could feel some of his skin lying against his back, broken free, revealing the muscles beneath it. While he could proudly say he did not scream or cry for mercy, tears still streaked down his cheeks.

“I have more in store for you,” The promise would have made Loki flinch if he had enough energy to do so. Instead, the Other snapped an order. The door opened and a large Chitauri, not the one he had become so accustomed to, stepped in. Its size was intimidating and Loki fought hyperventilating at the thought of it throwing him around. He had not realized until now that fear had long since left him. The Chitauri he knew had stopped scaring him, even if it still humiliated and made him want to wring its neck.

“Do as you please with him, but do not kill him” The Other waved its hand, and with a vicious grin, left the two alone. His absence pulled his magic from Loki and he fell to the floor. He tried his best not to fall onto his back, hitting his side instead. The splash of blood nauseated him, but he knew he had to pay more attention to the beast just feet away from him. With great effort, Loki pushed both of his hands against the ground, muscles he hadn’t known he had trembling with the effort. It did not last long and the Chitauri apparently became tired of watching his struggle.

The Chitauri grabbed Loki around the waist and jerked him up from the ground. The movement made him dizzy, and when the Chitauri threw him on the bed, panic settled deep within his gut. No, not me, not now. Please, save me—Thor! Desperate, Loki thrashed, but his fight was pathetic against the large creature that climbed onto the bed with him. It twisted Loki around and pushed him stomach down on the bed. One large hand stayed clasped around his neck, successfully pinning him in place. Loki still fought, using his remaining strength to kick his legs up in an attempt to dislodge the Chitauri.

It laughed, the sound chilling Loki to his bones. He grimaced as the Chitauri settled its knees on his legs, pain numbing his mind for a few blissful moments. Just as Loki began to fight again, the Chitauri leaned forward and thrust the blunt head of its cock into his body. He screamed and trembled, unable to help the noises that escaped him as the Chitauri took full charge of his body. Each thrust pushed him harder against the bed, and Loki cursed and gasped. He could not believe himself, but he began to pray for his Chitauri to show up, to be possessive, to reclaim him and slit the throat of the one on top of him.

Of course, that did not happen. Loki took the brunt force of the Chitauri’s fucking, his body battered and soaking the mattress in his blood. He was sure he was bleeding on the inside, tears opening wide to accommodate the Chitauri’s thick girth. Before the Chitauri finished, Loki passed out, unable to handle both the pain of the lashing and the splitting of his insides. The darkness was welcoming, saving him from pain and humiliation. He felt safe in the darkness, floating and weightless. Free of judgment. Free of thought. Free of anything and everything.

When Loki woke, panic gripped him. Pain burst across his back, and he made a jerky movement to get up. Something held him down, firm hands wrapped around his arms. He began to kick and breathing became difficult. Who was holding him now? What pain did he have to go through? Was the Other holding him? Was it the Chitauri, and if so, was he going to take advantage of him again?

“Sssh, my little prince, calm yourself,” The voice made Loki shudder, and he hated that a few tears slipped down his cheeks. “Do not move. You are far too injured. Stay still. I will take care of you.” It had brought a bowl of warm water and cloth, intent on cleaning the mess that was Loki’s back. It had planned on one of its brethren taking Loki, showing him what pain was in comparison to how it treated him, but it had not planned on the Other stepping in. If it had known, Loki would not be in this condition. He was useless this way.

Its voice seemed to work on Loki, however, and he calmed. His breathing was still frantic, but the Chitauri assumed that was a direct result of pain. It dipped the cloth into the bowl of water, wrung it out, and gently dabbed along the angry splits across Loki’s back. The power that had taken advantage of him made sure to leave magical traces that prevented Loki from healing properly. If it had not been for the magic, Loki would have been mostly healed by now. The Chitauri continued to murmur meaningless things to the trembling god, its fingers delicate and careful with each dab of the rag.

After the Chitauri removed what blood it could, it brought out a jar of salve. It would help the healing process, but Loki would forever have scarring on his back. It may only appear as multiple lightning strikes, but it would still be obvious. The Chitauri scowled. The Other scarred what was its—its property. One calm breath, another, and it slipped its fingers into the medical ointment. “This will ease your suffering.” It promised, and as it applied the salve, Loki shuddered.

The salve had to have magic in it. It seeped into Loki’s wounds and immediately began to ease his suffering. It was almost pleasurable, and he could not help the small gasps and groans as each palm-full covered his back. The Chitauri was quiet as he worked, massaging the salve into the wounds and then moving to the next. He was thankful for it—so thankful. The relief was so great that Loki’s fingers clutched desperately at the mattress, as if to keep him grounded.

“They hurt you here, as well.” The Chitauri slipped its slick fingers between the globes of Loki’s ass, and it frowned as his entire body seized in panic. “You will injure yourself, my little prince. Be calm. I will apply the salve, and that is all.” It waited and moments went by. Loki finally gave in and nodded, but he still held his breath.

The Chitauri slipped its fingers back into the salve and then resettled itself on the bed. Gently, as to not panic Loki, it spread the globes of his ass. Blood and semen soaked him, but it knew Loki would have to deal with that for a while longer. Carefully, the Chitauri eased in one digit. It sat there, allowing the salve to begin mending the tissue. As it did, Loki’s entire body began to release. Each muscle trembled in an effort to stay stiff, but the salve was working wonders on both his pain and his mind. The digit moved in deeper, pushing the salve along the lacerations.

When the Chitauri pulled its finger free, Loki whimpered. The noise startled him and he snapped his jaw shut. It frustrated him that he was so eager to have the Chitauri’s finger inside of him, but he also understood that it was not sexual. It was healing him. Just as he was contemplating his reasoning, the finger pushed back inside of him. He gasped and arched his back, unable to help the small rock of his hips. The salve reached further, soothing aches and pains that Loki had not even realized he had. He shivered, and a part of him was ashamed that he was almost panting in bliss.

The finger slipped back, and then pushed forward again. Loki groaned, his mind becoming fuzzy with both pleasure and shock. He tried to fight with himself, but his unmistakable arousal was thick and aching against his stomach. He was enjoying being fingered, and part of him knew that it was not just the salve. Shame made his skin blush hotly and his stomach knotted at the realization that he liked it. He liked having the Chitauri fuck him. He liked the idea of being completely and utterly owned, especially in such a foreign environment. Perhaps that was why—the Chitauri was all he knew, all he understood, all he could predict.

A second finger tore Loki from his thoughts and he groaned again. To allow the Chitauri better purchase, he shifted his battered body so that he was on his knees. His chest still pressed into the bed and he knew that he probably looked obscene, but at that point, he did not care. The new angle helped both of the Chitauri’s fingers slip deeper, and as soon as they brushed his prostate with the salve, his vision swam. He jerked, his cock leaking pre-cum on the bed. His lips finally fell open, his jaw becoming slack, and god, why was he responding like this?

The Chitauri watched in fascination as Loki’s body undulated against its fingers. It had put a mild aphrodisiac in the salve. It was apparent that the drug was strong to the Juton, who squirmed and moaned in a way that made its cock pulse. It had not planned on taking Loki; however, that plan was gone. Watching him squirm and gasp under its fingers was too tempting. It slipped behind Loki carefully, its fingers still digging directly into that bundle of nerves. It would have to distract Loki first, make him writhe and beg for release.

“You are so beautiful,” the Chitauri mused and unfastened the bindings on its trousers. It freed its heavy cock and shuddered as the cool air greeted it. Then it slid its fingers from Loki’s body, and could not help chuckling as Loki whimpered at the loss. “Be patient, my little prince.” It took a decent amount of the salve and stroked it along its engorged flesh. Each pump made the Chitauri groan, but it knew Loki’s body would feel phenomenal in comparison to its own hand. “Now, be good and hold still.”

The plump head of the Chitauri’s cock invaded Loki’s body first. He felt the abused ring of muscle stretch and he knew it should be beyond painful, but all that assaulted him was a small burning sensation. He gulped down several breaths as his body greedily swallowed each inch of the creature, pulling and quivering and desperate. He felt selfish by accepting the pleasure, but it was the only experience he had aside from pain. It was what he could have—the one thing that prevented him from completely losing it in his confinement.

The Chitauri groaned. The aphrodisiac was beginning to affect its arousal, as well. It was almost impossible not to move right away, not to fuck Loki right into the bed, but it knew that would only damage him further. It needed to smooth the edges, to convince Loki that he was the only safety that he had, and fucking him like the one before would not help his overall plan. It still wanted Loki broken and needy, relying solely on it to live. It wanted Loki begging for it to stay and see freedom as terrifying.

Each thrust was slow, calculated and precise. The Chitauri tortured Loki by completely filling him, and then made him whimper and beg by nearly leaving his body. It could tell that the aphrodisiac had taken over. The flush on Loki’s body showed how much he was enjoying it, and if that was not enough, his hips pushed back with every thrust. The heat of his body was nearly overwhelming, dizzying, making the Chitauri’s thrusts a little faster, a little less controlled. As much as the Chitauri wanted to drag it out, it could not withstand the tightness and the noises coming out of the prince.

“You are mine,” the Chitauri almost growled, its voice guttural, thick from pleasure and the need to release. It leaned over Loki’s back, but was careful not to touch the fresh wounds. In this position, it was easier for him to thrust directly into that tight bundle of nerves, and as it did, Loki cried out. He seemed to realize the mistake and quickly muffled himself by biting his forearm. If it hadn’t been for the aphrodisiac, the Chitauri was sure that would have hurt. Yet, as the thrusts grew ragged, Loki became less and less aware of his cries.

The Chitauri gasped, and before it could reach its climax, it reached just beneath Loki to grab hold of his weeping cock. It tugged a few times, and that was all it took. Loki’s voice sang, his body bowing to the pleasure as he came on the bed. The sudden release sent his muscles into spasms, forcing his tight heat to clench and shudder around the Chitauri’s cock. It was almost too difficult to thrust as the muscles clamped down, and it groaned its own release. Despite the pleasure, it was careful not to collapse on Loki, knowing that the pain would soon return. Instead, it carefully repositioned itself on its back. It took the trembling form that was once a proud god and tucked him against its chest. He was still gasping and shivering, a testament to the aphrodisiac and the jolts of pleasure that it still brought—even beyond his orgasm.

Loki wanted to fall asleep, but he began to feel the stinging of his back wounds again. He flinched and took in a slow, careful breath. Moving suddenly or too much would bother the wounds, and Loki was not about to put himself through more. Because he could not sleep, Loki’s mind began to drift back to Asgard. What was Thor doing? What about Odin? Did they believe he was dead? Were they even looking? Pain, and not the physical kind, settled deep within his stomach. Would the two ever realize that he was unable to control himself with the Chitauri’s influence?

The look on Thor’s face when Loki stabbed him on Stark’s tower still haunted his dreams. His eyes had fallen flat, his expression obvious: he had given up on Loki. Through the haze of the Chitauri’s control, Loki had recognized that look and shattered. He had tried desperately to break their hold, giving himself a pulsating headache and a serious grudge against them. The time he spent with the Other, being tortured beyond repair—his mind and body broken—left him open to their manipulation. It had destroyed him to know that Thor had given up, and he knew Odin had long since decided that he was a monster.

“What are you thinking about, my little prince?” The Chitauri murmured and raised his hand. Loki flinched, not having realized that it was simply brushing a few tears from his cheeks. Shame burned him, heating his cheeks and clogging his throat. Allowing his emotions to reach his face embarrassed him. Yet, two weeks ago, no one could convince him that he would be lying post-coitus with a Chitauri. “Well?”

“Nothing,” Loki muttered and exhaustion began to take its toll once again. The Chitauri noticed his eyelids fighting to stay open, so it slid a hand over Loki’s eyes and then his forehead. With a soft murmur, it eased Loki into a deep sleep. He would need it to heal.

. . . . . .

The ground rumbled and the sky darkened. The sound of battle woke Loki with a start. He sat up in the bed, disheveled and still semi-conscious. A voice, so familiar, cried his name. It dawned on him that Thor was there—Thor had come to save him. He tried to lift himself from the bed, but his body was heavy and weak. The door burst open, and Thor, bloodied but glorious in his armor and cape, stepped in. His eyes fell to his little brother, and he blanched. Loki had been lying on a bed crusted with dried blood. He was impossibly thin, and the substance on his thighs convinced him of one thing: Loki had been their plaything.

“Brother,” Thor breathed and reached out to slip his fingers into Loki’s thick hair. When he flinched, Thor froze and dropped his arm. “Did you like it, brother?”

Loki sucked in an aching breath, his fingers curled daintily in the sheets that did little to cover his battered body. “What?” He rasped, hoping to the gods that Thor had not just asked him that.

“Did you like it? When the Chitauri took you?” Thor’s eyes glittered with rage, “Are you on their side still, Loki? Why are you not in the dungeons? Why are you in one of the creature’s bed?!” Anger boiled into Thor’s gut and he strode up to his brother. He ignored the flinch and the glare Loki shot him.

“How dare you,” Loki had not even started his rant when Thor lunged forward, stole him by the neck, and slammed him into the wall. He gasped in pain, the burn from the welts on his back making him writhe. “Thor—“

“Tell me the truth, Loki,” Thor did not seem to mind that Loki had dropped the sheet and that he was now completely naked, pinned helplessly against the wall. “Tell me, did you like it? You are in its bed, clearly more than just a prisoner.” The ferocity in Thor’s voice made Loki recoil, his mind racing to find an answer. This was definitely not how he saw himself being rescued. “Will you let anyone who gives you power bed you? Are you that much of a Juton whore?!”

Hurt gripped Loki’s heart and clenched in ways that he did not believe possible. He stared at Thor in disbelief, his lips slightly agape in both shock and terror. He did not remember the last time Thor had been so angry. He knew the disgust Asgardians held for Jutons, but he had thought that his brother, of all people, would look beyond what he was, what he could have been. Apparently, he had been wrong.

“Tell me, Loki, if I allowed you power in Asgard, if I so much as gave you an inkling of magic, would you bend over and scream for me?” Loki choked, unable to come up with a response as Thor leaned the entire weight of his body against him.

“Thor, no—“

“Did you like it?!”

“Thor!”

“DID YOU!?”

“Yes, yes, I did!” Loki finally broke, sobbing, “He took me and I liked it. I begged, Thor, I begged!”

Loki woke up, his body twisted in the sheets. He was drenched with sweat, his eyes burning with unshed tears, gasping desperately for what little oxygen he could gulp down. It had been a dream, just a nightmare, but that did not keep fear from seeping into the marrow of his bones.
----------------
A/N: Thank you all SO much for commenting! They truly push me to continue writing! I know I haven't updated as often as I would like, but life is crazy like that. I hope you enjoy this chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it. :) Much love!
- 6
- 7
- 8
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

The Chitauri's Revenge