2. The Visionary #3
I did give him more, yet no amount of smacks upon that same right cheek seemed to deter him. He was only growing harder again, and I was still so hard too. I slid my cock between his cheeks, not to breach him yet, but to shallow fuck along his hole, while I smacked his ass again and again.
Heimdall’s hips would lower slightly, and I’d hoist them right back up.
No friction or rutting into the bed for him.
No relief. And no friendly stroke from me to relieve him either.
That would sate me, wouldn’t it? His own hands were focused on holding him upright, and I reached around to feel how hard he was.
He was steel in my grasp, but I held his cock without stroking it.
“P-please…” Heimdall said, trying to pump into my hand.
I slapped his ass again.
“ Ah !”
Until the cry that left him finally sounded pained.
My hand shook as I held it aloft, as I held myself still. His right cheek was as ruby red as dyed wool, and I felt a strange, almost bitter, almost mournful kinship with him. I rubbed over the mound I had abused and slowly realigned myself with his hole, no longer satisfied with slow or shallow.
Besides the earlier entrance of my tip, I had never speared anyone the way Thorsten speared me.
I had rutted with other thralls, stroked my cock under watchful gazes while they stroked theirs, but most had grown out of friendly trysts and helping hands and sought out young women thralls instead.
Or became toys for Thorsten’s mother. I had never enjoyed the embrace of a woman more than a man.
Now I was being allowed this sweet connection in a way I had never known, and as I sank within Heimdall, watchman of the gods, I did go slow. I had to. I needed to savor this depth, being so consumed by the tightness of his passage that I felt the thrill of being in the heavens for the first time.
Could I ever truly be free like I felt in this moment?
“ Yes ,” Heimdall said.
And what resounded through my head was, You like this, don’t you? , but I didn’t say it. Not again. I knew those words too well, and even the thought of them made the heat in my loins cool. I was being a noble, like all the ones I’d known as a lowly thrall.
And I hated it.
I pulled free of Heimdall, flipped him again, but carefully this time, torn tunic laid out beneath him, and rolled his hips backward with my hands beneath his knees. Slowly, I re-sheathed myself, watching his face for whether he truly liked this.
It seemed he did. He did . And seeing him honestly enjoying this, not only saying he was, not only pretending or forcing himself to believe it, made me realize I did not want to be a noble.
I wanted to be better. I wanted to keep making Heimdall feel good, like I felt good, for him to enjoy this as much as I wanted to enjoy it too, and to have this be for him as much as for me.
I cradled his head and let my thumb tenderly caress the side of his cheek. Hastening my thrusts, as deep as I was entering him, I tried to be gentle there too and began to stroke his cock to the rhythm of our hips.
“Oli!” Heimdall’s eyes flashed, glowed, literally glowed, and I wondered if he was seeing something more than just me. His smile told me it was wondrous, and I resigned myself to never know, simply hoping he wouldn’t see my gentleness as reason to take my power back from me.
I was there, right there, ready to come, and I slowed to the most torturous withdrawal and return within him, feeling every slide of Heimdall’s insides before—
“H-Heimdall?”
“Y-yes, my lord?”
“Your hole or your lips?”
He stared at me. That moment of holding back my release seemed endless, but then he smiled and said, “Here. Fill me as you are, please .”
How I lasted another thrust was beyond me, but I did, and when I released, I did so like he’d asked, buried inside him. To know this rapture of heat and sensation while inside another was glorious. I knew I would crave being filled again myself, but this… I loved this too.
I hoped Heimdall did as well, but he hadn’t released again yet.
This was my moment to be cruel. To be a noble again, keeping my promise that he be denied, while leaving him to squirm and telling him he liked it.
In those moments when it had been me left writhing, I’d told myself I did like it, reveled in liking it, because it was all I had.
What I wouldn’t have given for a gentler lover, a gentler master, who would have given as much as he took.
I swallowed Heimdall’s cock, sucking him down my throat until I felt his heat coat my insides. There went my freedom, I supposed, tenderly rubbing his abused buttock, because I had shown mercy that a real noble would never give.
I licked my lips as I pulled off him and collapsed beside him. He was in the wet spot he had made when he first came, but he didn’t seem to care. He laid there in equal bliss to mine and, eventually, turned his eyes to me.
“Well done, Oli. You proved me wrong after all.”
“I did? How?”
“I didn't only seek to prove whether birth should dictate station. I was testing your character to see what sort of noble you would choose to be if handed their power.”
“You… tricked me?”
“Yes, but you still won.”
Part of me wanted to be upset at being swindled, but I was too stunned and honestly grateful. My character saved me. Being a better master than any noble had been to me meant I hadn’t yet failed.
Heimdall propped himself on his side facing me.
Torn tunic hanging from his shoulders, with golden bangles and choker perfectly in place, and not a single braid loosened of his platinum hair, he was somehow more pristine than when I first saw him.
His rainbow eyes looked through me still, the eyes that saw everything.
“I am sorry I ever thought that a person could not rise above their station.”
“You sought penance?”
“Most of us do, though others might not believe they deserve their redemption.”
“Will others trick me like you did?” I asked.
“Perhaps.”
“Is Loki tricking me?”
“The future is not yet set.”
“But you said we couldn’t fight fate!” I scoffed. “Even if you did change your mind about birth and station.”
“Usually, what one does to fight fate is what causes it to happen. But even if Ragnarok was inevitable, I believe that this time, Loki might be the one tricked.” Heimdall moved his lips closer to my ear and whispered, “Succeed, Oli. Save us and be saved too.”
I closed my eyes, taking in a deep, calming breath, and then turned my head to offer him thanks.
He was gone. His home, once a place of celebration among his brethren, was empty and quiet of anything but me.
I sat up, but all I could hear or see around me in the bedchamber was a lone fly, buzzing up to the window to head outside. Had I heard that same fly earlier? It seemed I must have, but all its presence made me think was…
What an odd thing to find in Asgard.
LOKI
I had to be more careful. That dashing young mortal almost spotted me.
As I landed back on Bifrost to await his return, I wasn’t sure yet what to make of him. He was certainly going to be fun to watch and was proving even more capable than I had guessed.
Exactly what was needed.
Exactly what had been foretold.
But it only got harder from here, so I summoned my best, most convincing smile, and waited.
OLI
In Heimdall’s bedchamber, whether it had been there originally or not, I found a basin filled with water and a cloth for me to cleanse myself now that I was alone.
I thought perhaps Heimdall had left me to allow me time with my thoughts, to consider how I should move forward, for it seemed Loki might indeed mean to trick me, but it was possible to prevail.
It was possible to be free. It was possible to be…
better. And if I trusted that I was worth more than I had been told my whole life, it was possible to help others achieve that too.
I hadn’t gone into this arrangement with selfless intent, but it seemed I didn’t mind the helping the gods part of our pact.
I fussed with my hair to ensure its top length was tied back neatly in its braids, and then redressed, when I noticed new stitching had been added to my right sleeve beside Loki’s snake.
Gjallarhorn with an all-seeing eye within the curl of its end, just like Heimdall’s stitching and what was imprinted upon his bangles and choker.
I walked out of Heimdall’s hall, unsure what awaited me next, and traipsed back down the rainbow trail to Bifrost proper. I looked left to see Midgard. Then right at the gates of Asgard.
No Loki.
“So? How did Heimdall taste?”
I didn’t bother spinning quickly, since I knew what I would find.
Loki stood behind me, where he hadn’t been a moment before.
“How did his blade taste?” I asked with a cross of my arms.
Loki smirked. “Isn’t that what I just asked you?”
Holding back was clearly pointless with him, so I didn’t intend to. “Best cock I’ve ever had. But that’s the problem. This feels too good to be true, as if you started with the perfect god to ensure I believe your ruse.”
“Ruse? What ruse?” Loki batted his eyes.
“One that means I will eventually wish I hadn’t taken your offer.”
“But you did. And what wonders have been bestowed upon you so far. A new outfit. New appreciation for a slick hole. The view alone!” He swept an arm toward Asgard.
If this was a trick—and to what end, I couldn’t yet guess—I had to be mindful and not give Loki any quarter.
“It’s fine, I suppose, but while I might look the part of a noble now, does a real man truly require lavishness to feel like one?
I enjoy nature more than some extravagant city.
Or do you require ease and excess comforts to feel like a man? ”
Loki laughed. “Oh, you are entertaining, I’ll give you that.” He skipped around me and latched onto my arm like earlier. “Are you saying you’d prefer another romp in the wood to that display on Heimdall’s bed?”
“How do you know we fucked on his bed?”
“Only a farm boy would scoff at luxury.”
“That doesn’t answer my—”
“If you really like nature so much,” Loki spoke over me, “I know precisely the god to send you to next.” He spun us in a circle, and then swept me down the road toward Midgard.
“Wait, I—”
But as soon as I halted my momentum, the view changed, just as instantaneously as when I’d found myself transported to the realm of the gods.
I was in a wood again, but a very different, very alien, very intimidating expanse of one.
The trees were massive, as tall as the mountains in the distance, mountains so majestic, they looked purple in the sun.
I could hear as well as see a great waterfall nearby and almost feel the coolness of its spray.
This wasn’t Midgard. Not Asgard either.
Loki had sent me to Vanaheim.