#i very much mostly tumble between manhood

[gurorori]

when the boy part in girlboy hits

[xxxprettydeadgirlxxx]

One step forward, three steps back

Summary: You wake up one night to strangers kidnapping you. When Loki finds out it was The Avengers that took you, he wastes no time in getting you back. When the Avengers realize there is more than meets the eye, they are determined to get to the bottom of it. What they discover will force them to change the way they think about the harsh, coldhearted God of Lies. Rating- M Warnings- Violence, mentions of abuse, mentions of rape and sexual assault, mentions of torture.   [Reader has a very dark, painful past] Relationships- Loki/Reader Tags- @neurotic-narwhal@nuggsmumreads@burningarbiterheart @starrynight35@christy-winchester @turnoftherogue @a-manduhhhhh @nochillrcgers [If you want on or off the tag list let me know] Chapter 1    Chapter 5 Chapter 2    Chapter 6 Chapter 3 Chapter 4                                     

                                       Chapter 7- An Act Of Love (NSFW)

Loki’s face was pressed firmly between your thighs sucking on that sensitive bundle of nerves, while simultaneously plunging two fingers back and forth inside you. You whimper and squirm beneath him, and a wanton moan escaped your lips when Loki curled his fingers. Again and again, he built you up to the brink of release only to pull back, and begin again. Before long, you were dripping wet and desperate for release. 

'I want you to take me when I come.’

You weren’t sure what had come over you in that moment - maybe you were going mad with desire or maybe it was because you couldn’t think straight - you didn't know. What you did know, was that you wanted this.

'Are you sure? I will do anything you ask, but I need to be sure that it's what you want.'

'Yes, Loki. I'm sure, I want this.'

'Alright, baby. But promise me, if it becomes too much and you want to stop, tell me, and I’ll stop.’

'I promise. ......Loki?'

'Hmm?'

'I trust you.'

'...I know you do.'

The pressure in the pit of your stomach was slowly building again. As you're about to climax, he doesn't pull back this time. Instead, he continually changed his patterns and kept you dangling on the edge.

SO CLOSE.

How he kept you on the brink without tumbling over was beyond your comprehension. All it would take is one wrong move - the wrong lick, the wrong stroke, the wrong application of pressure - and you would go spiraling off the edge.

'That's it, baby. Just let it build.'

Sobbing and panting, the heat inside you rises, spreading throughout your entire body. Muscles tightening, thighs quivering, heavy breathing. Wave after wave of pleasure flowing through your body.

'You want to come so badly, don’t you?’

‘Yes, please! Please, Loki!'  You nod frantically, virtually screaming at him in your mind and nearly driven mad with arousal.

‘Then come for me, sweet girl. Come undone against my mouth, let me feel you clench around my fingers.'

Even telepathically, Loki's voice was pure sex.

Ceasing his teasing, he was now a man on a mission and it took little to nothing to set you off, your orgasm hitting you so hard, you see stars. If you hadn't been so absorbed in the pleasure, the needy and desperate sounds that you were involuntarily making might have been embarrassing.

Arching your back, you dig your fingers into the bed sheets, and at the same moment, Loki slides himself up your body, bracing one hand on the bed for support and withdrawing the hand between your legs, quickly positioning his manhood against your entrance. His dark, lust filled gaze locked with yours. Releasing himself, he gripped your waist and just as you start contracting inwards Loki sunk himself inside you, moaning blissfully as he did.

You gasp at the invasion, drawing a shuddering breath. Rocking back and forth against you with short thrusts Loki eased himself deeper inside of you. You moan, still feeling yourself contracting around him - the slow pace dragging out your release - and once he was completely sheathed within you, halted all movement.

For several moments, it felt as if time had stopped - nothing else mattered - there was only you, and Loki.

Releasing the sheets you take hold of his shoulders for support. Securing your leg beneath the knee Loki pulled it up until your inner thigh pressed against his hip. Claiming your mouth with his own he kissed you deeply, longingly. He urged your lips apart and slipped his tongue into your mouth and then, ever so slowly, he started to move within you with long, drawn-out thrusts.

The sensation that coursed through your body with every thrust went beyond anything you’d ever felt before. The pleasure was indescribable; transcendental.

Even the sound of his breathing was erotic and you moan into his mouth closing your eyes as he kissed you. Pulling away, he gave you a moment to catch your breath and ran his lips along your jawline before resting his forehead against your own.

“Look at me," Loki whispered, so softly and so sweetly, you almost didn't hear him. You open your eyes to find him staring back at you. "Are you okay?" His voice wavered, and you nod, trailing both hands down and around his waist, whimpering, urging him to move faster, harder - anything to increase the build of pressure in your lower stomach.

Sensing your distress, his movements intensify, and before long your nails dig into his lower back. Your climax was sudden and unexpected, curling your toes and tearing a silent scream from your lungs. Loki's thrusts never faltered, prolonging your pleasure and chanting softly against your lips, but before you can question him about it, his movements and breathing become more erratic. Groaning, Loki stiffened and emptied himself inside of you.

The feeling of connecting, of bonding, so intimately with him left you unable to articulate your feelings, ambushed by intense emotions you didn't understand and staining your cheeks with fresh tears. Loki frowned, wiping them away and you quickly let him know that you're okay.

'No, Loki. Please don't look so sad - these are happy tears, I promise. I'm just emotional and a bit overwhelmed, but mostly I'm crying because I love you.'  

More tears fall and your eyelids grow heavy.

He kissed you. "And I love you," Loki murmured against your lips. "My love, my light, my life - my everything."

Exhausted and completely spent, you fall asleep in Loki's arms.

The next morning you wake up to Loki's warm body firmly pressed against you, his arm wrapped possessively around your waist. You remain still, not wanting to wake him, and reflect back on last night's events. How tenderly he made love to you, and how you lost yourself as he distracted you to the point you'd forgotten to be afraid. There was no fear, no doubt, only love, and pleasure, the feeling of his body connecting with your own and the wave of emotions it brought along with it. Sex wasn't anything like you remembered, but then again, this was the also first time making love and giving yourself to a person willingly, so really, you couldn't compare the two. Still, not once last night did your past cross your mind, which in itself was major progress. If anything, the experience should have been a lot harder, but perhaps the fact that you were so comfortable showed just how much you loved and trusted the man beside you.

"Good morning, sweet girl," Loki said softly and you roll over to face him, his arm still tightly wrapped around you.

You smile. 'Morning.'

"How are you feeling?"

'Good, a little sore, but good.'

He kissed your lips and whispered, "Was making love everything that you'd hoped it to be?"

'Everything and more.'  You reply honestly. 'I loved it, and I can't wait to share the experience with you again.'

"Is that right?" Loki purred and kissed you deeper, sending jolts of electricity directly down to your core. "Perhaps once you're not as sore, I can make good on that request."

'Yes, please.'

'Oh yeah. What the heck were you chanting last night?'  You ask a few minutes later. You had forgotten about that little detail until now.

"It was to prevent pregnancy. You are not currently on birth control and we didn't use a condom so I used a spell. I figured neither one of us is ready for that.”

'Oh shit! Yeah - Good! Because I never even considered the possibility of... that.'

"I know, but I did, and I took care of you as I will always take care of you."

[brett-buckner-the-dirt]

“He understood well enough how a man with a choice between pride and responsibility will almost always choose pride–if responsibility robs him of his manhood.” Stephen King, The Running Man

It happens every year, usually around the middle of the month. I hit the horror wall, leaving a bloody splat where my motivation and enthusiasm had once been. For as much as I love horror movies, watching one every single night for 31 nights becomes a grind.

Usually after the second week, I’m so desensitized to blood and gore that I could watch Bambie’s mom get gunned down and feel nothing. I could read Where the Red Fern Grows and shed nary a tear. The Champ can’t make me cry either.

I could even watch that Amazon commercial where the dog has to be dressed up like a lion so that the baby will … nope … scratch that. Just thinking about that sad dog gets  me chocked up – no matter how many dying screams, eviscerations, decapitations, and Poop Demons I have running around my brain.

I’m not heartless.

But I have hit the wall … hit it full force last night in fact. I didn’t want to watch another so-called horror movie. I certainly didn’t want to watch another Stephen King adaptation because, let’s face it, save for Gerald’s Game and The Shining miniseries most of these movies have been blah (The Dark Half) at best and downright dumb (The Mangler) at worst.

Still, I have a job to do. I didn’t want to disappoint my readers (and I wanted to personally thank both of you … not counting my mother. Love ya, Mom). So I made up my mind to power through whatever mess was up next in the HorrorFest calendar.

And I’m so glad that I did. The Running Man is a gnarly riot that has as much to do with the Stephen King (writing as Richard Bachman) novel, as it does with the ‘80s dance that shares its name.

I don’t know if this is the Running Man. I just wanted to use a pic of Vanilla Ice

That’s a good thing.

The movie version vastly improves on King’s source material mostly by scaling back the so-called Hunting Grounds from the entire planet to an area. The movie’s ending – silly as any ‘80s action movie should be – is much less bleak. The hero, played by the ever thick-tongued Arnold Schwarzenegger, is more likeable, believable (seriously), and funny than the Ben Richards of King’s novel.

But the movie manages to do all of this without diluting some of the underlying messages that resonate today. When it comes to entertainment, as a culture, we can be very bloodthirsty. Only now, rather than direct violence, we can hide behind the anonymity of social media. We’ve all witnessed – or even participated in – shaming and berating, judging and dismissing – people who do or say something we don’t like or are different from what we deem to be normal.

The whole time I was watching The Running Man, I was thinking about the old George Carlin bit about having public executions once a week at halftime of the Monday night football game.

The ratings would be killer.

In The Running Man Richards is framed for murdering innocent civilians and forced, along with three friends, to compete in a whack game show where ‘roided-out Stalkers hunt him with a series of absurd weapons. My favorite is Dynamo, the opera-bellowing Stalker who shoots bolts of electricity from his suit.

Much like with the type casting of Traci Lords as the town harlot, Richard Dawson, the smarmy, lady-kissing, former host of the Family Feud is stars as Richards’ slimy nemesis, Damon Killian. Dawson is magnetic and easy to hate as the host of The Running Man TV show, which is broadcast free to those struggling to survive in the dystopian wastes.

How a movie supposedly set in the future could feel so dated, yet so relevant is beyond me. Maybe it’s because The Running Man stars two former U.S. governors– Schwarzenegger and Jessie “the Body” Ventura. The movie is also set around 2017, a time when, in the real world, we’ve elected a game show host as president.

THE RUNNING MAN, Jesse Ventura, 1987. ©TriStar Pictures

Spooky.

This movie is to blame for inspiring the American Gladiators TV show – make of that what you will – and the whole movie looks like Olivia Newton-John’s “Physical” video stretched across two hours. (Wow … that’s two Olivia Newton-John references in a week. I really have hit the wall.

The Running Man is gloriously absurd. Schwarzenegger’s wicked one-liners alone are worth the price of admission:

Damon Killian: You bastard! Drop dead!

Ben Richards: I don’t do requests.

The Stalkers are laugh-out-loud awesome caricatures who look like they were pulled straight from this year’s WWE Wrestlemania lineup – complete with gimmick. But mostly The Running Man is an old-fashioned (yet futuristic) revenge fantasy that plays on our cultural obsession with violence and entertainment.

My wall has officially come tumbling down.

Up next:

Sometimes They Come Back: Based on King’s short story from Night Shift, this made-for-TV movie was originally planned for Cat’s Eye, before it became a stand-alone feature that spawned a pair of sequels – (Sometimes They Come Back… Again) and 1998 (Sometimes They Come Back… for More). Hopefully, more effort went into the plot of these movies than into their titles.

    HorrorFEst “He understood well enough how a man with a choice between pride and responsibility will almost always choose pride--if responsibility robs him of his manhood.”