“Treat yourself like you have the ability to be mine.” -Loki
Tag: Godspouse
I tumble into his arms
like a fallen leaf swirling in the air
before ground,
and he carries me, naked in the twilight,
to the cave entrance, the only place I wish to be.
Beneath a cocoon of bearskins, musk, and Loki,
my fire stokes awake from dormant.
Tied with soft leather strips to the headboard. A cute little pink vibrator between my legs, clamped shut around it, softening its jolting just enough that I can’t be satiated.
Loki acts nonchalant, like he’s not in the middle of torturing and teasing my pleasure. I squirm and wiggle, twisting this way and that. His attention, his eyes watching intently, suddenly catches me off guard, and I give up the struggle.
“You didn’t think I would let you so soon, did you?” he says with the slightest smirk, deep lustiness in his voice.
“No,” I whimper in confession.
“Not until you are mine,” he says gently.
“Please,” I plead.
He strokes the hair from my eyes, leaning over to kiss me, warmth flooding my senses.
I can’t seem to get the vibration on my sweet spot, and my frustration comes out in grunts and groans. I’m aware of the part of my brain in love with the process, with my vulnerability, with my desire, with my want of him, and with my submission so beautifully unfolding.
He grins, pulling on a black latex glove, and proceeds to fill me with his middle finger.
“Fuck you, Sweetheart,” he says adoringly.
I love the double entendre. It makes me further his that he engages my mind. His come-hither motion pulls me into him, soul first.
“My soul is so slutty!” I squeal shamelessly.
He chuckles, wearing a wide grin, then clears his throat.
“I’m your God. Your husband. Your Dominant, if you’ll have me.”
Surprise tears break me open.
“Yes!” I yelp.
He kisses me as I fall apart to let him in.
“Good. You’ll break up with him.”
I agree. I already knew it was needed.
“How?”
“Exactly how he left you. Do you hear me? Give nothing more to him. Not an explanation, not your time, nothing. Be petty.”
Loki helps me up from my restraints, both past and leather, darling strips that forever now will remind me of his love.
Him in my breath as I say his name.
“Loki…”
My kisses land all over his body, his hands in my hair, gently tugging my head to look up at him. Still, my impulse is to look down from his gaze. My heart flames holding eye contact with him.
“The moon, the moon, the harvest moon is so wildly gorgeous,” I tell him between swollen lips.
“Full like you are,” Loki says, and I lean into his large hand, nuzzling like a kitten for his love.
“Sing for me?” he says.
I sing a song I don’t know the words or meaning of, but I feel the deep pleasure in giving voice to something of his.
Naked under the moon’s face and him.
“Need me to remind you?”
I nod.
Loki tips me into kissing long and wide.
Air and light filtering between strands of his hair blanketing us
in shadowed privacy.
His hand on the soft curve where my tummy meets my hip, making me feel myself as he does.
His fingers laced around my wrist, thumb on pulse, lightly rubbing and enjoying my racing blood.
back pressed against the wall, warming wood.
I know I’m his.
“We’ll take this slow, darling,” Loki says, lying back with me under stars,
a swirl of lights prickling above us.
I relax into him. Spread, warmed and love-sick for his kiss. My heart heats red with his.
Falling to sleep with him over me into soft purple velvet.
Loki’s Song Choice: “We Watch The Stars” (Berlin Session) by Fink
I become a bulb, pulling in the sunlight, minerals drawn down into my crown.
It feels pleasurable to hold and rest. Hold the sun. Hold the soil. Held and kept while holding, keeping layers of the sun. Full and heavy.
Asleep…
Stretching from the soil, bursting from my core, I am tendrils of green and stalk and flower bud. I breathe in the sky, ecstatic, alive. Light. Life. Sprinkle, fizzle, burst. A daffodil sprung gorgeous.
“I shapeshift,” Loki says, pollen dust shooting from his trumpet as I turn my golden-yellow face in shock and orgasm.