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The Breeding Cure

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Leashed like a beast, Loki was led in chains through the halls of Asgard.

The cursed muzzle that Thor had forced onto him was sealed tight over his lips, with a thick internal piece that intruded into his mouth, trapping his tongue. It was as uncomfortable as it was humiliating; he could barely keep from drooling. 

Worse, his magic was more than adequately constrained by the ancient runes and his loss of speech.

“This way, young master,” said the head guard, motioning to the men who held the ends of Loki’s chains.

He realized with a jolt that they were headed towards the healer’s hall - the very place that Loki had avoided since manhood. Horrified, he tried to resist, but it was useless; he was dragged by his shackles over the threshold, into an immaculate, frigid room full of gleaming metal tables.

An aged healing woman was watching his struggle without emotion. “Well, you took your time about it," she said. "Bring him over here. It was ordered that he be examined carefully.”

Loki moaned, the sound muffled. Thor, that soft-hearted twit, must have been concerned that he had been injured in the final battle. As if Loki cared for his physical health (although in truth, that giant green obscenity had been a more than formidable opponent).

“Strip him,” said the healer.

Loki could hardly mount a defense, bound as he was; it was the work of a second – and a few passes of a sharp dagger - for the guards to split his princely garb, dragging the fabric away from his form, leaving him bared.

His shameful secret, exposed to judging eyes.

“By the Gods,” said one of the guards. “Look at that little thing.”

With the accursed manacles around his wrists, Loki could not even cover himself.

The healer sucked her teeth. “I have heard of such things, among the jötnar, but I have never seen one up close.”

She approached, and Loki might have shied away - but she blew a palmful of orange powder into his face, and the world spun giddily.

“Get him over the table. I think we’d better have him on his back for this.”

Loki, now light-headed and weak, found himself staring, dazed, up at the ceiling as hands clasped his wrists and ankles. The chains that had connected to his collar were gone, but his arms were trapped down at his sides, his thighs parted, his feet restrained.

He whined as fingers probed his male organs, lifting them up out of the way.

“Aye, this is the source of his inconstant nature, no doubt,” he heard the healer say, dispassionately. “No wonder he is moody and unpredictable. He has been suppressing his feminine aspect for too long.”

Cold, competent hands moved over his abdomen, pausing to tap against his sides. Loki stirred at the feeling of foreign seidr sinking into him.

“I believe he is properly equipped,” the healer pronounced, examining Loki’s tight-bunched nipples, feeling absently at the sparse muscles of his breasts - his flat, male breasts. She pinched one sharply and Loki yelped.

“I will check now. Hold him well.” She walked down to the end of the table, between his spread legs. Two fingers slid between lips of his cunt, as Loki reared and gasped. Never had he been touched in such a manner - and to now be subjected to such disrespect! 

She pressed up as far as she could stretch, immune to Loki’s garbled protests. Her magic spread through him like smoke. "Aye, he is fertile. And when he has been bred, I have no doubt he'll be well enough subdued.”


She laughed, as if she could hear his thoughts. “Mark my words - fill his womb with children, and we’ll see no more of this childish mischief.”

She withdrew, leaving Loki sick with relief. But her fingers only dipped lower, to his other hole.

“He will need to be taken by both entrances,” said the healer knowledgably, tracing over his anus; “penetrated as a man as well as a woman. But I think our prince Thor is more than equal to that task.” She chuckled humorlessly.

Loki, who could barely move, began to tremble.

“Come, let us prepare him for this now, while he is still sedated.”

One of the guards approached. Loki could only groan as his back passage was invaded by the tip of the clyster, pushing inexorably into his tender space.

“Aye, this is nothing compared to how you will take a phallus,” said the woman jovially, draping a hand over Loki’s eyes to close them. “It is well that you should feel it now.” It pushed deeper as poor Loki struggled as much as he could, restrained as he was as well as stupefied by the drugs. “You will learn to like it, I think! Or accept it at least, as your due. Now, release the clamp.”

Loki sobbed at the new sensation of rushing water, filling his body. It pressed against his bowels from the inside, stretching him. It flowed through all his nooks and crannies, flushing him out. To prepare him for – to make him clean enough – to be used by Thor.

At least it was warm – possibly too warm, no doubt perfectly calibrated to the internal temperature of the Aesir, slightly hot for a jötun.

"Bring him a bucket," said the healer. "But not right away. Give it a little while."

Loki closed and tried to imagine the vengeance he would demand.



Thor had to admire the picture before him. Loki, naked and seemingly unconscious, laid on his back, bound to a table – his arms and legs restrained, his head hanging backwards off the edge, thrusting his skinny chest up.

He was utterly naked, his modesty not even acknowledged with the typical sheet over his nethers. Instead his legs were spread obscenely, bound in place by the manacles around his ankles.

His body, in his unconsciousness, was somewhere between his two forms; his features were precisely those of Thor’s familiar younger brother, but his skin was pale blue.

Thor walked around to the top of the table. It extended – the only reason it had not been left so was because the people of Asgard were in no hurry to see the young prince comfortable.

“Poor little brother,” murmured Thor, touching Loki’s cheek. In this position, at this angle, it was impossible not to note that his bluish lips were at the perfect height to be split by Thor’s manhood. Were it not for the muzzle locked tight. (And his lack of his cognizance, and Thor’s honor – of course).

How beautiful he would look, on his knees, gasping for breath, his beautiful eyes full of tears when he finally – finally – accepted his place, serving at Thor’s pleasure.

“You are safe from that, at least, Loki,” Thor soothed.

For now, anyway.

Carefully he lifted the drooping head in one big hand. The pale face, tinged with blue, looked small, cradled in Thor’s palm. He was not entirely naked after all; they had left the gold collar around his throat, though it was no longer connected to the manacles on his wrists.

“I am truly sorry that it’s come to this,” Thor murmured. “But the Allfather is right … this is the only way to defeat the wickedness that possesses you. I see that now. I promise I shall be gentle with you. I shall bring you your pleasure before I take my own.”

He extended the top of the table, and set Loki's head on it carefully, smoothing his hair in a dark fan.

Then he walked slowly around the body displayed before him. Loki was thin - far too thin - and his chest was sunken. He breathing at least was deep and even. His eyes flitted behind closed lids.

“You’re so quiet,” Thor marveled. His caustic little brother was finally hushed, his cruel insults and bitter words silenced at last.

To Thor it was deeply satisfying to have his brother here, under his eyes, unable to get away. It calmed something in Thor that had been unsatisfied for far too long. Finally little Loki was not out who-knows where, stirring up trouble, putting himself and the kingdom at risk. He was here for Thor’s scrutiny at last.

Taking his place between the splayed, slender thighs, Thor could not keep himself from bending to kiss the vulnerable soles of the small, blue feet.

“I will take good care of you,” he promised.

From here he could see Loki’s small, unmanly bollocks, trussed with rope, and between them – well, it might be a cock, although to Thor it looked more like an oversized woman’s mount.

“No wonder you are so quarrelsome, little brother,” said Thor. “Well you might be haughty to walk around with only that small thing to announce you!”

Still, he reached to caress the little cocklet with affection. Without it, the healers would never have suspected Loki’s second sex. He might have been banished or immured.

Loki shifted at the touch, inadvertently pressing himself against Thor’s much bigger hand.

“Aye, you need to be brought to your pleasure,” murmured Thor. “But not with that paltry organ, I think.”

The way Loki was restrained, his hips pulled up by his fetters, gave Thor good vantage of his openings - the rear, where Thor would demonstrate his dominion first, and the soft little place at the fore, where Thor would spend his seed.

His anus was reddened, dribbling a few drops of clear fluid from the cleansing the healers had proscribed (how Thor wished he could have witnessed his proud brother’s indignation at having his bowels flushed by the bellows, like one in their toothless dotage!).

He reached to caress his brother's cunny, sweetly fingering his shy little opening. 

"Look how beautiful you are. So soft and fresh."

Loki stirred, tugging at his trapped hands. Thor gathered the moisture welling from his womanhood to prepare his other entrance.

"I am told it is the jötun way to take both holes in close succession, that it aids in their breeding,” said Thor. “But my manhood is so prodigious, my women cannot stand for me to have them so; they cry lusty tears when I try."

Gently, he eased his finger up into Loki's tightly-clenched rear. His brother moaned, tossing his head; Thor could feel the rhythmic clench of his muscles, trying to expel him. But Loki had never been a match for him in physical strength.

"Don't worry, brother, I will not hurt you."

Thor unbuckled the leather manacles on his ankles. Loki was too weak to move them even after they were released - too weak even to close his legs, although Thor thought he was trying.

He lifted the underside of the platform and retracted it, allowing him to come in closer. Loki’s skinny legs would have flopped down as it slid into place, if he had not caught his brother under the knees and hoisted them up. A second finger, dipped in oil. Thor began to carefully work him open.

Loki grunted, relaxing.

"That's it. Let me in, brother," murmured Thor, guiding his legs around his waist.

He was too weak even to struggle, barely able to lift his head, although Thor saw his wet mouth work around his gag. His fists clenched feebly as Thor’s red cock breeched his tender hole. His body was relaxed and welcoming. 

"Ah, so sweet," groaned Thor, sliding slowly all the way home.

"Nmg," said Loki. It was the only sound he was capable of making. "Ng, Ng, Ng."

"That’s it. Feel your place,” said Thor, rocking slowly. Loki’s chains rattled with every thrust. “You are defeated, little brother. Your body is forfeit to your king, your conqueror. It is mine to do as I will. If I say you will take my cock, then it will be so. It is not your choice now.”

Loki tried to talk – perhaps to disagree? But with his mouth stoppered, he couldn’t voice his denial, and was left with only gurgling moans.

“Yes, you’re mine,” said Thor. "This is how we were always meant to be." 

Loki was grunting, tossing his head, but Thor knew better than to heed the little lie-smith now.

"If you do not believe me yet, I will show you," he promised, picking up speed.


With effort, Loki was just barely able to peer down own body to see Thor between his thighs, thrusting doughtily away.

Thor’s cock was like the man himself; relentless, insensitive, irresistible. It bullied its way into Loki’s suddenly yielding body, it pushed and took, and he found himself taken. Split open, like a ripe fruit.

He found that he was moaning brokenly, his body jostled by each of Thor’s powerful strokes, with Thor’s calloused hands roaming over his buttocks, sliding between to feel the place where they were joined. It throbbed dully there.

"You are mine now," Thor whispered, meeting his gaze.

Loki knew he needed to resist the truth of his brother’s words. He was a proud Prince, a near-immortal God! ... But his mouth was penetrated, constrained; and now his ass too, impaled, defiled by Thor’s manhood. He was - he was helpless.

Relaxed as he was by the cursed drugs, he could not even comfort himself with the knowledge that he had been ravaged in pain and suffering. Thor had been careful. The sensation was – well, a warrior of Asgard would never let himself be – be mounted in this way. It was shameful.

And yet, the cock buried deep inside him (not quite, perhaps, where his body wanted it, but there was charm in this too) – being jolted by each of Thor's punishing blows ... being the focus of all of Thor's brainless, animal passion ...

Loki let his head drop back to feel it, each scraping thrust against his insides, each of Thor's hurt little sounds, the heat of the other man like a brand. He let himself be further folded up to experience a new angle that sent lightning-sparks down his frayed nerves.

"Let me give you your pleasure, little brother," said Thor, and it almost sounded like he was begging.

Loki did not let himself respond, keeping his eyes closed.

Without losing either his rhythm or force, Thor tugged at Loki’s tight-trussed cock, loosening the fetters. With the tip of his finger he stroked just the sensitive tip – and Loki groaned, straining against his restraints, heaved, and came, feeling his nethers clamping tight on the cock still planted squarely inside of him.

“Why, look how fiercely this small thing spits at me,” said Thor merrily. “It is like a little adder-snake in the grass.”

Caught up in the waves of pleasure, Loki feared he would lose consciousness again. But with the part of his brain that was not dizzy from drugs and orgasm, he knew he must coax Thor to spending in his bowels, where no children would bloom. He forced himself to clench down and rock back, hoping to coax his brother into release. Oh, it felt – it felt good, to use Thor’s massive organ, to have it solid and unyielding in his aching flesh.

It felt like they were one entity; dark and light, mind and body; like all this could have been prevented if they had never been separated in the first place.

“Ah, little brother,” said Thor regretfully, “I cannot join you in bliss. I must save something for your womb.” He kissed Loki’s forehead and withdrew carefully, shushing his brother’s muffled gasp at being so suddenly empty.

Loki flushed to feel himself contracting down around nothing.

Thor placed his legs down - spread wide, knees bent, exposing his shame. "Let that be a lesson to you,” he said, no doubt surveying with satisfaction Loki's displayed, despoiled hole – stretched and loose, shiny with oil, his naked belly coated with own release. “You will not defy me, brother. Your place is here.”

"Nuh. Mn mm - nuh."

"Hush. We still have another, more pleasurable act to consummate, little one.” His fingers were already seeking out Loki’s treacherous cunt, which twitched and dribbled in shameless welcome. Fingers thicker than his own cock, and Loki groaned as they sunk into him there, stretching him open.

“Just think,” Thor whispered, “this is where our child will grow.” He stretched to press a gentle kiss to Loki's cheek, above the muzzle.

Loki managed to turn his face away.

His brother sighed. “Enough of this childishness. You will open to me, Loki.”

He kicked out, managing to catch Thor in the shoulder. Of course his brute of a brother was such a solid block of muscle that it had barely any impact - still, Loki was relieved that he had regained enough of his strength. He would not be so easy to overcome this time.

Thor caught his foot and kissed the ankle. “If you cannot behave, then it is my job to help you,” he said mournfully. “This is not how a new life should start. But in time, you will learn to accept your place. You shall see.”

Loki felt his heart sink.


Ignoring his brother’s stifled exclamations - no doubt he was calling Thor an oaf, and worse, but there was a charm to his burbling too, like an infant’s - Thor reached for the cloth that the healer had left for just this purpose, generously soaked it in the contents of a bright orange bottle.

Loki thrashed as much as he was able, which was barely any at all. “Peace, brother,” said Thor, holding the sodden fabric tightly over Loki’s nose and mouth.

Though he was a god, he still must breathe.

“Poor little trapped thing,” Thor mourned, stroking his hair back. “Do not fight me. I will take such good care of you - both of you.”

Loki’s anguished cries tapered off. Finally Thor uncovered his face. He was slack-jawed around his gag, eyes glassy.

“That’s better, little brother,” rumbled Thor, lifting his chin, wiping away a thin line of saliva with his thumb. Loki blinked at him, uncomprehending.

Thor returned to his place, between Loki's legs, guiding them wide. His rear hole was still slick with oil, his cunny with juices. Thor loved them both.

His brother would learn to yield, to offer his body eagerly for Thor’s desires. And of course Thor would honor him in return, the mother of his many children, his royal concubine.

“It is well you should fear this act, brother,” he said, gently working the pad of his finger against Loki’s female entrance. “If you had let any man between your thighs but me, I should surely have killed him. It is right that you should keep this place a secret, because it is mine. You were saving it for me.”

He wanted to bring Loki pleasure, so he would not feel as much pain as his maidenhead was claimed and breached. Even women of experience were sometimes uncertain in taking Thor’s mighty cock, or begged him to go slowly. Slight, frail Loki might well suffer while he was taken, although he had done very well in his other hole, taking Thor’s size with barely a murmur, as if he was born to receive it.

Well, Thor would get him soaking wet and dripping, begging to be claimed, and then he would not suffer.

Holding his thighs apart, Thor leaned forward and kissed the soft petals of Loki’s other entrance. He did not have the usual soft nub of pleasure – as Thor suspected, it had formed what there was of his cock – but women liked it also when he kissed them here, and pushed his tongue up where his fingers and his cock would follow.

Loki was slowly shaking his head, his eyes clenched tight, his breathing unsteady. Saliva had begun to slide lose from his gagged mouth, wetting his chin.

Thor moved his lips around the delicate aperture, listening to his brother’s choked cries to guide him to the most sensitive spots, to learn the most pleasing pressure and depth. Finally he hoisted Loki’s legs over his shoulders and bent to thrust his tongue into the soft, yielding center, feeling Loki pant and shake. “Aye,” said Thor, kissing softly into the curves, letting his lips drag around the fluttering flesh. “This pleases you. This is the place you have neglected, but no longer.”

Daringly, he pressed two fingers all the way in, moving slowly around to feel those wet, clenching walls grasping at him. Loki whimpered at the feeling. Thor gave him some time to adjust to it.

“You are so wet and soft,” marveled Thor, pressing soft kisses to his nether-lips. “So wet for me, beloved, you are soaking my hand. You will feel so good on my cock, so warm and snug, taking my seed. You are so beautiful like this, so helpless, showing me your pleasure.” His voice was strained; he had denied his release too long, and now it was impatient, seeking its home.

Outside Thor was conscious of a gathering storm, its power driven by his own, building in the dark sky.

Slowly Thor fucked his fingers in and out of Loki’s sloppy channel. “Come for me here, little brother. Now. Come as a woman does."

Loki was obedient in this at least – this time, his spent cock stayed limp as his internal muscles clenched and released, clenched and released around Thor’s digits.

“Good, that’s good,” soothed Thor, coaxing the juices out of him. “More? Yes, that’s it, this is what you need isn’t it.”

Thor did not want to give Loki time to tense up and become anxious again; in his bliss he was quiescent and relaxed, and Thor was eager to be inside him quickly. Plus the invitation was dribbling slowly over his taint, over his sore, swollen asshole.

“Keep your thighs spread wide for me,” coaxed Thor, as if Loki could do anything else - but he wanted to believe that his beloved brother was yielding to him willingly, offering himself to Thor’s hands. Ah, but he would, in time.

Loki wailed as his virginity was taken with a single thrust; his slender hips were dwarfed in Thor’s big hands, pinned, bruised.

“Relax for me, sweet one,” panted Thor. “It is already done, just loosen your clench, it will be better for you.”

He began to move, slowly, savoring the sensation. He just wished he could imprint his love onto his brother’s soul as easily as he could press it into his body.

“Remember this feeling, Loki. You were born for this. To swell with my mighty seed and bear my children. This is what you were made for.”

Loki’s body was a fertile field, and Thor the farmer who would plant it. He did not doubt his own fruitfulness - he was a god of virility, after all. Loki would be so beautiful when his small breasts were swollen with milk, his body soft and round, blooming with life.

"I will make you so happy, brother. I will take such good care of you and our children. Don’t you see? Finally we can rule together."

Thor stretched up to kiss his breasts, flicking his tongue over the nipples – first one, then the other - as Loki moaned and unconsciously arched into the touch. Thor reached to kiss his neck, nuzzling into the curve of his throat, and closing his eyes. His hips picked up a steady rhythm, driving him deeply into Loki's icy core.

"You will be mine, mine to care for, to dote on and to spoil. I will keep you safe, with my last breath. I will protect you even from yourself."

Loki tried to say something; Thor suspected it was his name, desperate, begging; his slender hips lifted, pinioned like a bird.

Thor came with a roar of thunder; the walls of the castle shook, and somewhere outside a thunderhead broke open, soaking the fields of Asgard with life-giving rain.

He felt himself fill his brother, locked inside him, and he felt him convulse again, his chest heaving as he came again, his powerful internal muscles coaxing out more and more from Thor, who gave it all willingly. “Yes, take it,” he whispered. “Take it all, it is for you.”

Loki sagged back, exhausted. Thor stayed inside him as long as he could, his hips rocking in a slow churn. But eventually even he finally softened, and withdrew.

“Can you feel my seed planting inside you?” asked Thor. He bent forward to kiss Loki’s flat belly.

Loki’s eyes were closed.

Thor dragged the end of the table back out. He stretched out his brother’s legs again, but did not chain them; he was too weak to do more than stay as he was laid, panting.

“You are so beautiful like this,” said Thor, examining Loki’s despoiled body; both holes red and sore, and still so helpless, legs wide, sleepy from the drugs, sucking on his gag like a babe at the breast. Like their own babe would do on his pale blue nipples.

He cleaned up his brother with a warm cloth soaked in soapy water, gentle over his soaked thighs, then over his belly where he’d spent himself. Then he carefully parted the lips of Loki’s cunny to wipe him there, where he was dribbling out Thor’s seed.

Loki did not react other than to whimper.

“Aye, it is over, brother, you did so well,” Thor crooned, as if his little brother had merely struggled through a trying day in the training rings.

The healers had given Thor two cold stone phalluses, both engraved with protective runes; Thor carefully slid the first one into Loki’s little rear hole (his poor brother startled, trying to protest through his gag, but Thor shushed him and soothed him through it). “My poor little brother, I know it aches a little now,” said Thor, making sure it was seated well into his passage. “But you will soon grow used to it! And your backside will not be so tight for my manhood next time.”

Then he placed a hand on Loki’s pale thigh to hold him still while he eased the other, larger phallus between his soft petal lips. Loki strained and grunted mightily – Mmm! Mmmm! – but he could not escape it; Thor kept the pressure steady and even, watching as his brothers body yielded so sweetly, bashfully opening wide to swallow down the stopper which would keep Thor’s issue where it needed to be.

“That’s it,” said Thor in satisfaction, when both of Loki’s little holes were well plugged. He wished he could always dwell in this moment; Loki, accepting his captivity, with Thor his loving keeper.

Finally Thor lifted his head in one hand and gently unbuckled the gag, sliding it out from between Loki’s lips. A thread of saliva stretched and snapped, spattering his lips.

“There now,” Thor soothed, stroking back the dark hair. “I know, I know, you’re sore and dirty. We shall get you cleaned up and warm, and you shall sleep well this night.”

Loki grimaced. “Monster,” he whispered, his voice almost gone.

Thor hurried to fetch him a cup of mint scented water, holding it to his lips and feeding him little sips. Tenderly he massaged Loki’s throat to help him swallow it down.

Loki strained feebly against his restraints. “Let me up,” he ordered, when his thirst was slacked.

Thor palmed his cheek. “Brother …”

“You know it worked. You can feel it as well as I can. Your duty is done, brother. I salute you.” Loki did not try to hide the bitterness in his voice. “Now let me out of these chains.”

“Ah, Loki …” said Thor. He bent forward and pressed his lips to Loki’s, slipping his tongue eagerly into his cool mouth.

He reared back with a grunt as his brother viciously bit his lip.

“Free me, Odinson.”

Regretfully Thor stroked his brother’s cheek. “I cannot let you go free, Loki. You know you would only seek to flee, and cause more grief and trouble. The Allfather’s orders are that you should stay under lock and key until the child is born.” Nothing else would render him docile, and they all knew it.

“But - that could be eons!” gasped Loki - they were immortal, after all.

“I will be here with you, brother,” he soothed, pressing his head back down with a palm on his forehead. He’d have to replace the muzzle soon - and perhaps another dose of valerian, to send him into sweet dreams.

Then Thor could loosen the chains and massage feeling back into those trapped limbs; carry him to the bedroom where he could be more comfortable in his confinement. And the healers would need to examine him again. Loki would need to be tended to throughout every minute of this miraculous pregnancy; dressed in soft silks to keep him warm, and read to, and fed rich foods from Thor’s own hand.

And he would need to be plowed vigorously, as many times as necessary – in as many ways as necessary, to keep his spirits high.

“Aye, do not fret, my sweet one. I shall be with you every step of the way.”