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ijuststareatstuffhereok89 · 3 months

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“A Damsel's Debt” A Dark!Loki x Reader Oneshot

One unexpected evening, the Prince of Asgard saves your life. Asgardian tradition dictates that a rescued damsel must pledge her body to her savior from sunset to sunset in gratitude, to be his to serve and obey in tribute for her spared life.

Pairing: Dark!Dom!Loki x F!Sub!Reader Genre: DubCon Smut Word Count: 3.8k CONTENT WARNINGS (18+ ONLY): Reader is attacked & threatened with assault, DubCon, love slave trope, shackles and chains, some knife play, Lusty Loki gets kind of creepy in this one, uneven power dynamics/classism, humiliation, degradation, being bathed, virginity kink/loss, breeding kink for a sec because apparently that's my thing since I got married , this is NOT a love story

“Blessed Norns, protect me, and remind me to never again take a job after sunset!”

The Lower Ring was foggy that night. Even the squares, still dense with night-goers, were limited in visibility. It was a dangerous night for a lone woman to be in the wrong part of Asgard, which, of course, most of the Lower Ring was. Still, you trudged along, attempting to stay within eyesight of at least three different people at a time as you passed, though that was becoming more difficult the further away from the center you went.

While the palace of the Allfather and the Royal Family stood as the shining gilded centerpiece of Asgard, the bustling city below was divided into three rings, each walled off from the other with a few guarded archways to keep the riff raff from intermingling with the merchants or clerics up above.

The riff raff like you, for example.

Granted, you weren’t so poor as to be in constant need. In fact, your business had a small but shining reputation throughout the boroughs. Several months ago, you’d even been summoned to the palace by the King himself to deliver a bag of letters to the military training camp outside the city limits. You’d had the rare opportunity to lay eyes on the beautiful Queen, and the dashing Princes, both studly and in their physical prime. It was an honor you knew you’d carry with you for a long time.

Also, it wasn’t as if your purpose out in the ominous evening was nefarious. You were a courier, a courier of anything at all (as long as no one asked about it). Once in a while, your cargo was questionable, but those packages usually came with the biggest tips. Those tips fed your four little siblings and your incapacitated widowed mother.

Tonight, however, your cargo was innocent: a bag of fruit to be delivered to the home of a sick old man. In spite of the benign purpose of your journey through the winding alleys of Lower Asgard, you felt like you were being followed. It was a feeling that stilled your heart as you quickened your pace.

Soon, your fears began to materialize in the physical plane. You began to see two large shadows moving independently following you from only meters away. Oh Norns, please don't let it be murderers!

Sometimes, you went on a mission dressed as a man. It was safer. Tonight, you chose to forgo the disguise, instead wearing your usual brown dress and black cape, hood up and over your head and pulled low over your brow. You were regretting it the more you realized that you were being targeted.

You called out, holding the bag you carried as if it were a bludgeon. “Whoever you are, leave me alone! I have no money! Only fruit for a dying old man!”

An animal’s growl answered you from a nearby alley as he and two other men began circling you like starving scavengers. “We do not want your money, maid.”

“You know what we want!” hissed another.

The three shadows closed in on you before you could attempt to dash away. You felt a violent pull on your shoulder as the messenger bag was ripped at the strap and thrown over the shoulder of the biggest of the brigands.

Screaming, you tried to duck under their legs, but again, you were slower than their reflexes. You were caught at the shoulders and lifted off of your feet by the tallest of the thieves, easily over seven feet in height and 400lbs. He could shatter you with one well-placed hit, and you knew it.

There was no one around to help, as far as you knew. You were done for.

Weeping and begging for your honor and your life to be spared, the robber holding you carried you quickly into the alley, followed by his companions, where each one took a wrist and pinned you against the wall. Each angrily stomped on your foot, wrenching another painful holler from you as bolts of lightning shot up your legs. They pulled your feet apart, splitting your legs apart by force under your skirt.

Oh no, Freyja, please save me…

You closed your eyes, and though you had no talent for magic, you tried to will yourself to safety somehow.

Instead, you willed a savior into existence.

You could feel one of the three brigands being pulled away from you. Another responded to the anonymous attack by throwing you aside by the arm, sending you hurdling to the floor, where you curled up into a ball defensively as the third pulled a knife and leaned down, pointing it at your ear so you wouldn’t move to escape.

It was too dark to make out who your hero was, only that he possessed green magic. A mage? A cleric? No, not a cleric. The monasteries were in the Upper Ring near the palace.

The lone stranger was able to use his defensive magic to stun his first attacker, throwing him against the wall. Meanwhile, you could feel the assassin’s dagger still at your head, the tip beginning to push down against your flesh.

Punches were thrown, kicks were delivered, and within minutes, three large bodies were piled unconsciously in the corner of the alleyway. You were still trembling in a ball on the ground until you saw black boots slowly saunter up next to your head. Knees bent underneath green pants.

A curious Prince’s gaze met your eyes as he examined you.

“Oh my, what have we here? A silly girl who knew no better than to walk around unescorted after nightfall?” said Loki, the junior Prince, the seidr-caster. He was the slick god known for his love of power, gold, and sex with only the most handsome bodies and faces he could collect. You were suddenly aware of his heaving muscles, stressed after the exercise of dispatching your attackers, showing off his superior strength.

“My Pr…my Prince,” you stuttered, still shaking like a snake’s tail, hot tears nearly blinding you to the point where you could barely make out Loki beyond his most angular features.

You felt a cool thumb caress your cheek. “Now, now, fretting like a babe won’t do. Let’s get you back to the palace and clean you up before we begin.”

We begin?

Loki helped you to your feet, circling you once to look for signs of incapacitation (thankfully, it felt as if there were none to you). You kept your head down and knees bent in respect for both of your castes. Technically, you weren’t even allowed to make eye contact unless so bidden.

He must have been patrolling the Lower Ring (though did Princes follow guard duty?), for he had a horse. “Can you mount on your own?” he asked, his voice almost inaudible, yet still holding so much power.

You were undeniably sore, but otherwise not injured. “Yes, my Lord.” You demonstrated by awkwardly climbing into the enormous black horse’s saddle.

“Good, yes, very good,” Loki said with pleasure, swiftly mounting in front of you to carry you back to the palace, leaving behind the fruit, the brigands, and any chance of returning home that night.

Loki brought you directly to his chambers and locked the door, only opening it briefly for a broad, muscular servant to be admitted. The servant was nowhere near as handsome as the Prince, but he was fair and well-formed. His teeth sparkled. He was a perfect specimen, making you wonder if perhaps he was a part of the palace harem.

To your shock, Loki had immediately placed you in the center of his parlor, colored in dark greens, grays, and golds, on a small stool so that you were elevated about a foot higher than Loki’s head.

“Take off your dress, girl,” he demanded.

Your eyes widened. “But…Prince? I…what? I’m sorry?” you stuttered, unsure of what to do, of what he meant. Did he mean to complete what the brigands had failed?

He chuckled as he made his way to a large reclining chair, plush and decadent. He sat back and crossed his legs at the knee, tapping his fingers impatiently on the armrest. “Are you so simple, child, as to not be familiar with the royal tradition of the Damsel’s Debt?”

You looked down, ashamed. “Not simple, my Prince. I’ve only seen the inside of the palace once.”

“Yes, and I recall that day quite well myself,” Loki responded. “How…amusing that you find yourself here only weeks later.” His tone mocked you with a hint of darkness, of something more sinister underneath his Princely skin. “I shall explain while you obey me. Undress. Now.”

He was, after all, the Prince. Denying his whim would be death. You unsnapped your cloak and let it tumble to the floor beneath you. Loki nodded his modest approval. While you continued to disrobe, he rewarded you with an explanation. “The Damsel’s Debt is an eons-old ceremony of sorts. If a Royal rescues a creature who pleases him, they are beholden to their savior’s will from sunset to sunset.”

Your jaw dropped; your skin ran cold. “I am in your debt most certainly, my Lord,” you agreed with hesitation.

“Indeed, you are,” he affirmed. “And you are all mine tonight, as my rightful reward for risking my royal neck to save your worthless one.”

The insult stung, but then again, Loki’s demeanor made it almost sound like a term of endearment. The more you spent in his presence, the darker he became. Truly, Thor was the Prince of Light, while this insatiable brother ruled the shadows and eclipses. Loki indulged in the temptations of the night quite often, and it made him a hungry, impatient being.

“So, I am your slave,” you summarized, finally untying your bodice strings and letting your dress peel off of your body, leaving you in only a corset and shift. He held up a hand as you made a maneuver to remove the stay. Standing up, Loki reached into his back pocket and extracted a knife.

“You are my slut, and I like to do this part,” he insisted, bringing the blade up to your cleavage, letting it linger as the cool tip dragged ever so lightly across your breast. “You belong to me until sunset tomorrow, to bless or burden as I please.”

Loki tucked the blade under the lacing at the bottom of the corset, and in one graceful flick, sliced the entire thing open, ripping it off your chest and throwing it aside, leaving only the see-through shift.

“If you don’t fight me, if you do as I command, I will bless you. If you refuse me, I will burden you.”

Loki stood back to take a deeper look at you. “A virgin, I see. I was hoping for as much.”

You shivered, feeling vulnerable under his intense blue gaze. “How can you tell?”

He looked at you, eyebrow raised, before letting out a hearty chortle at your ignorance. “Your posture betrays your treasure. You’re folded up like you hide a precious secret between your legs. Well, maid, it is time to pay your tax.”

He ran a finger up and down your arm. “But worry not, for as I said, if you allow me to exercise myself on you, you shall be rich for the rest of your days.”

You had no choice. Yet, were there an escape, would you take it? Riches! Not only riches, but your curiosity would remain unsatisfied. Yes, you’d never known the intimate touches of another, but it didn’t keep you from imagining the sensations for yourself. Who better than to surrender your maidenhead to the very Prince of Asgard? Would it not be a badge of honor in and of itself to say that Loki Odinson was the first to claim you from the inside?

“Alas, you need to bathe,” he said. “After all, you're still a peasant. I cannot have my sheets dirtied by a serf’s smell.”

Loki took you, as well as the handsome servant, into his bathing room, as large as the front parlor. It was illuminated in green flame candles, with a large tub built into the floor in the center. The tub was filled with steaming water and piles of soap bubbles (it was a strange sight for you, as you’d never seen a bath with such foam before).

The servant stripped as Loki quickly tore the shift off of you, and immersed himself into the bath. “Go in with him” Loki commanded you, indicating the tub with a finger. “Let him clean you.”

As you slowly waded in, Loki stood over the tub. He resembled a giant now from the skewed angle you saw him.

“Begin.”

The servant had clear experience bathing others, for his nimble, skilled hands made steadfast work. They scrubbed the dirt caked on your skin, and raked slippery, scented oils through your hair until you felt lightheaded.

“Harder, and massage her tits with pumice,” demanded the Prince. “I want her skin as soft as goose down.”

“Yes, my Lord.”

The Prince’s appetite was triggered when the servant began massaging your belly with soap. “I should make you eat his cock while I impale your ass on mine, but let’s not get to the entree before we’ve even tasted the appetizer,” Loki mused, the idea itself beginning to make him hard.

To your surprise, Loki did not take your body in there. He only studied the servant as the pads of his fingers left no inch of you untouched, unwashed. The Prince’s blue eyes pierced you like the tip of his blade. He licked his lips as you squirmed every time the careless bather tickled you. The involuntary giggling made Loki shift in his seat.

After you were bathed and dried, Loki turned to give the handsome servant another order. “Get the shackles, the gold ones. They’ll flatter her coloring more than the platinum.”

“Yes, my Lord.”

He casually grabbed a soaked tendril of hair and snapped his finger, instantly drying every inch of you, leaving not a single sud to cover your private parts.

Loki circled you again. “Yes, yes…” he thought to himself, as if plotting your fate without your consent. “I can’t watch to stretch your unopened cunt so wide. Norns help me, I’ll probably rip you clear in half if I cannot control myself.”

He leaned down to your ear, flicking the lobe tantalizingly with his tongue before saying, “And your body is making it very hard…” he paused, “...for me to control myself.”

The servant returned with a large wooden box. Loki wiggled his fingers as if preparing to play a piano before gently opening the lid and extracting a large mass of tangled gold chains and cuffs. He turned to you and held them up in front of your face. “Yes, splendid. Now, girl, go bend over that table. Magnus, you may leave us.”

He indicated a small side table over by a black fainting sofa. You walked over slowly, leaning over the tiny tabletop and sticking your buttock out. You squinted, expecting a slap on either one, but instead, you felt two cool hands pull out your wrists and lay heavy metallic bracelets connected by a chain over them. He twisted his fingers, locking them.

Then, walking behind you, he gently took your hair and brushed it to the side, giving him ample space to bring the neck cuff over your head. He leaned into your back as he reached over your shoulders, firmly clasping the collar around your throat. It was tight, but lined with a fine fur inside that made them a little easier to wear.

Each side of the neck collar had a chain. Loki took one in each hand and suddenly pulled back, yanking your head straight up. You bucked like a horse as he pulled on your reigns too hard. Bringing both chains to one fist, he took his free hand, placing his fingers gently over your lips to quiet you as you began to moan.

“I was going to gag you, but that little mouth is too pretty to stifle, or to stuff with anything but my shaft. Waste not, my plaything, waste not…”

He took your chains and pulled you to a standing position, where he led you like a dog on a leash over to the bedroom. Once at the bed, he shoved you onto the mattress and made quick work of you, tying your chain to each of the headboard posts before raising your wrists over your head and tying those off as well.

“Now, my little woman,” he muttered, his voice low and dominating, “Be ready to see stars.”

Impatient and not wanting to dangle you in front of himself for too long, Loki snapped his fingers, dissolving his clothes. As you expected, when his dick sprang out for you to see, you whimpered at the size, thinking how he very well could have been truthful about splitting your belly in half.

Taking himself in hand, Loki took full control of you as he slowly pushed his cock past your entrance and up inside you. The pain was less than you expected, for you’d begun to drip with wet arousal as Loki played with you. You did gasp at the brief, sharp pinch you felt, but it quickly dulled away as your pleasure hormones intoxicated you to anything other than how it felt to be fucked.

Your breasts bounced with every pound from your master’s hips. When he noticed, Loki grabbed each one in a hand, squeezing them so hard it made tears come to your eyes.“These are so big, oh, a pity your station is so low, you could be a wet nurse for my mother’s ladies’ babes, or Thor’s…or mine…oh!”

Loki was monologuing more to himself than you as he pounded into you harder, alternating between squeezing your breasts in his palms and reaching between your lips to twist your clit between his fingers until you bucked against him. “Peasant women always have the best bodies to breed. So strong and sturdy…”

His thrusts became faster and more frantic as he approached his fall. “You were broken by a future King tonight, little Miss, now thank me.”

“Oh my Prince, thank you for--”

“--FUCKING you! Thank me for fucking some experience into you! SO that when you go back to your taverns and hay barns for a rolling, you can tell those meager boys that a god has already painted your cunt with his seed. That you were only pristine and pure for ME! That my fat cock turned you into a desperate, needy whore!”

“Prince, my Lord, tha-ah-AH!”

He rolled his hips and slid up further inside before almost pulling out entirely. Alas, he slipped back inside you with enough verve to send sparks before your eyes.

“Submit to me…submit…worship me…drink in my might and shout his name that marks you!”

You felt him pull your head up by the collar, and the act of force brought you to your edge. “MY PRINCE!”

“My name, damn you!” He grunted in quick frustration, stilling his hip as you teetered on the brink of orgasm for too, too long. “Say my name!” he ordered, near shouting.

“Aaaaaahhhhh Lokkiiiiii---”

You came as he rewarded your scream with a heavy thrust. Keeping himself in you up to the hilt, Loki felt your canal pulse and throb against his dick as your hips quivered. You allowed a long, loud, high-pitched moan to roll from your lungs and proclaim your shameful pleasure to the room. Hearing your cries coaxed Loki’s seed from him, and with four painfully strong bucks, he filled you until his cum spilled onto the sheets.

Your master rode the waves of pleasure until he was spent, after which he stood up and observed you for a moment, splayed out before him, a ruined woman.

You were grinning like a drunk, lolling your head from side to side as the sex hormones flooded your senses. Loki snickered. “Pathetic, in the most delightful way.”

He crawled into bed beside you. “Alas, I’m exhausted, and we still have daylight to look to complete the repayment of your debt to me. I could parade you naked through my father’s courtroom. I could force you under my breakfast table and have you drink from my cock while anyone can watch. I could keep you tied to my bed like a prisoner, and interrogate you with my hands and tongue until you give. I could do them all to you. Perhaps I will.”

You were surprised when he turned out the light, seriously indicating that he wished to go to sleep.

“My chains, Sire!”

Loki rolled over and admired you, still shackled and bound loosely to the bed. “Oh, what lovely tableau lies next to me! Here, you may have your wrists and arms back," he quickly used his magic to make your hand shackles dissipate. "As for the collar, it stays on. After all, I never said I would undo you.”

It was too late. You were undone.

You were still asleep at sunrise, but Loki was rudely jolted awake by a knock on his front door, beyond the parlor. Getting up and wrapping a green satin robe about his naked body, he sped to the door, careful not to wake you. You would need your energy for breakfast, after all. It was worth it to allow you another few hours of genuine, luxurious sleep in his bedsheets.

Tonight, a peasant girl slept better than all the princesses in the Realm, he thought, taking pride in his sexual prowess and ability to bring a maiden to climax.

Upon opening the door, Loki was greeted by three large, familiar brigands, all standing at attention, their hands cupped in front of them politely.

“We haven’t gotten our fee yet, Highness,” said the leader, the one who’d first approached you. “For the set up with her.” He pointed over Loki’s shoulder in the general direction of the bedroom.

"And we want extra. It hurts when you hit us!" said one of the others.

Loki growled impatiently. “Visit the treasury on the way out, and I distinctly said NEVER to come here!”

“Oh, sorry, Your Highness,” the leader said, hanging his head.

“Next time I’ll dock it from your fees, bloody imbeciles!” the Prince scowled before angrily shutting the door in their faces,

Loki walked back toward the bed, but stopped in the doorway to the bedroom, just to look at you from afar and admire how you looked, even chained (especially chained!). It was truly an annoyance that he had to sneak and lurk about with spies and disguises in the Lower Ring after setting eyes on you, the gorgeous courier from weeks ago, a forbidden trifle he could not openly sink his teeth into. Hiring thugs to make you in need of Loki’s rescue was surely an idea from the fairytale books, but it was a tried and true way of getting what he wanted.

And Prince Loki always got what he wanted.

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