The Trickster

Pronunciation: Þórlákr: Pour - lah - kh; Abjörn: Ah - b - yorn; Fuðflogi means "man who flees the female sex organ." Some of the words are in Swedish, others are in Old Norse. The ones that are in Old Norse I researched, while the ones in Swedish are from Google Translate. Please tell me if they are wrong. Enjoy.

*

Loki was bored. And it was never a good thing for the god of mischief to be bored.

Sure, Loki got offerings daily from farmers and villagers who were scared that he would come and play a horrible prank on them. Yet, after a while, the offerings get boring and annoying, and Loki would want something new.

So he would get it himself.

Loki was wandering the lands, looking like his average self. Most people thought that he would take the form of a snake or an old woman, so when he traversed, he kept to his favorite, natural form.

Shoulder length black hair, tan skin, and ebony eyes created the mischievous god.

He finally came upon a tiny coastal village of Utterby in the Norrland kingdom. In Norrland, the people were spaced out and sparse. Utterby had a population of forty people usually. Several years ago, nine men built a ship and went eastward on the water in an attempt to bring back riches, whether it be legally or illegally, it did not matter.

The day that Loki found Utterby was the day the men came home.

All of the citizens were excited and moving around faster than normal in the cold, Scandinavian air. They wore thick woolen clothing that was dyed bright colors. They were celebrating.

The festivities confused Loki, and he went up to who seemed to be the only man who was not celebrating and instead was working.

He had long, thick brown hair and a goatee. His brown eyes were hard and his hands were calloused from years of work. He was working with some wood and seemed to be building a large trunk.

Loki looked into the mortal's mind and found out what had happened. And then, the god had a brilliant idea of how to entertain himself.

"God morgon!" Loki said brightly. The carpenter gave him a strange look.

"Who are you, stranger?" the man said. "I've never seen you round here before, and no one new ever comes to Utterby."

"You are a smart man," Loki said with a chuckle. "I am new. I came with the other men on the ship that arrived."

The carpenter gave him a look but said nothing.

"What can I do for you then?" he asked.

"Can you tell me your name first?" Loki asked.

"Grettisson," the carpenter replied. He returned to his work before adding, "Þórlákr Grettisson."

"Well, Láki--can I call you Láki?--I need your help with something."

"What do you need?"

Loki quickly looked inside Þórlákr's mind. "Let me come to your house when it is dark and Máni is at the highest point in the sky."

Þórlákr nodded to him and Loki left to look for another toy to play with Þórlákr.

***

Sol was almost done riding her cart through the sky and darkness was settling in when Loki chose his second prank victim.

The man was sitting in a large circle of people around a fire. He was talking to the people of his adventures as a Väringar. His bright blue eyes glittered in the firelight and his wavy blond hair was pulled back and tied with a strip of leather. His face was free of hair except for his light brown eyebrows.

His arms flexed and showed off his strong muscles as he gestured actively. He had a dark brown cape fastened around his neck that covered his deep blue woolen clothes.

When the man finished his story, Loki walked up to him and pulled him aside from the group of people.

"Who are you?" the man said with a silky smooth voice.

"God kväll, I am called Skojare. What is your name?" Loki asked.

The Viking stared at him for a moment with suspicion in his eyes. "Abjörn Sveinsson"

"Abjörn," Loki said, "Please come with me. My friend desperately needs your help."

Loki would have been worried that the distrustful mercenary wouldn't comply if he hadn't already looked into the man's mind and seen that he truly was good at heart.

As soon as Abjörn nodded his head in agreement, Loki told him to be ready at his house later that evening for Loki to bring him to where he was needed.

***

Loki came to Abjörn's home late into the night. Abjörn had been struggling to stay awake when he heard the pounding on the door. He pushed aside his furs and got up from his bed. Abjörn then pulled on his boots and cape before swinging the door open.

There stood the man he knew of as Skojare. Abjörn didn't trust the stranger; that much was a certainty. However, the kindhearted man wouldn't be able to sleep at night with the thought that there may be someone out there who desperately needed his help.

"Are you ready to go?" Loki asked as he fought off a smile.

Abjörn grunted and exited his empty house, shutting the door behind him.

"Lead the way," he told Loki.

Loki walked ahead of him for a couple of minutes until he stopped in front of a house. He knocked on the door and a man with long brown hair and a brown goatee answered.

"God kväll, Láki. I hope you don't mind that I brought a friend," Loki said.

Þórlákr shook his head and stepped aside to let the men into his home.

"What is it you needed my help with, sir?" Þórlákr asked.

"Patience," Loki chuckled. "Please, go sit down for now. All will be clear."

Both men were highly confused, but they found themselves doing as the strange man said. Once they were both seated comfortably on a bench built into the wall, Abjörn spoke.

"What is your full name?" he said.

"Þórlákr Grettisson. And you?"

"Abjörn Sveinsson. What is it that I can help you with?" Abjörn asked.

"Me?" Þórlákr said. "I was told that your friend needed aid with something."

"I was told that someone desperately needed my help."

Both men seemed confused, but couldn't continue the topic for at that moment, Loki walked in with three bowls of ale.

"Before you help me, let us have a drink. I brought it with me and brewed it myself."

While Abjörn and Þórlákr were wary of Loki, they weren't about to turn down a fine drink of ale. The men drank and didn't notice that Loki's bowl was empty in the first place.

Loki then had Þórlákr lead them to the bedroom and told them to sit down on the plain bed. The wood was a reddish color, most likely the result of a linseed oil varnish. Once the two men sat down on the furs of the bed, Loki created what appeared to be a chair with a woven seat. It was clearly a wealthy man's chair, and it had been magically created right before their eyes!

Loki smirked at the look of shock on the men's faces while leaning back and tipping the chair back and forth.

"Now, I must be honest with you both. You know, being that I lied earlier," Loki said.

He stopped rocking the chair and leaned forward.

"Let's start with introductions. My name's Loki, God of Mischief. And you know what? I'm terribly bored." Loki gave the men and evil grin.

The men were now horribly frightened at what this God would do in order to entertain himself.

Loki suddenly whipped out a small glass bottle filled with a whitish liquid. "So, I talked to my wife, Sigyn, and she gave me a wondrous gift. She's best friends with Freyja and pulled a few strings to get me this. Could either of you guess what it is?"

Both men seemed reluctant to speak.

"Guess!" Loki shrieked, causing the men to flinch.

Þórlákr gulped before asking quietly, "Could it be a love potion, sir?"

Loki's smile widened. "Good guess Láki, but no. It's only a lust potion, I'm not that mean."

Both men blanched and Abjörn managed to stutter out, "When di-did you plan to use that, s-sir?"

"Well, as it so happens, I've already used it. Since it's tasteless, it can easily be slipped into two drinks. Then, whoever has drunk it is fiercely attracted to whoever else has managed to drink it."

The men grew even whiter at Loki's words, causing Loki to chuckle. "And, as it so happens, I really wasn't thirsty earlier, so I decided not to drink my ale. But you boys drank it up like parched animals."

Loki smiled again and looked out the window at the night sky.

"Looks like in a few minutes, the potion will take effect. You two may want to get to know each other. I'll give you some time alone." Loki gave them one last smirk before getting up and leaving the room.

The men sat in silence for a moment before Abjörn stood up.

"Sorry," he said, "but I think the best way out of this situation is for me to go so we're too far apart for the potion to work."

Þórlákr nodded at him. "I think you're right."

"Actually you're both wrong."

Both men jumped when Loki suddenly spoke and reappeared in the room.

Abjörn was getting impatient with the god. "And why is that?"

"It is true that the lust will lessen the farther apart you get," Loki began and saw Abjörn smirk, "however, the more distance there is between you two, the stronger the pull towards one is."

Þórlákr quickly spoke so that Abjörn wouldn't say something stupid and get himself killed by the god. "What do you mean by that?"

"It means that you both will feel such as strong pull towards one another that each of you will run straight to the other. And, by the time you reach each other, the lust will have strengthened so much that the entire village will get to see Abbi here riding you, Láki."

Þórlákr blanched and turned to Abjörn. "I can't do it," he said. "The villagers will not only see me as less than a man if you... if I'm..."

"If you let him fuck you," Loki said.

Þórlákr blushed and nodded. "Right, because of that, but I'll also be labeled a fuðflogi and be shunned. I wouldn't be able to handle that."

Abjörn was quiet for a moment before he answered. "Honestly, I think we should do it."

Loki had a wide smile on his face while Þórlákr spluttered. "Wh-what! Are you crazy?" he said. "You be shunned and called a fuðflogi as well!"

Abjörn was solemn when he replied, "No, I won't be. My wife and two daughters drowned before I went away on that ship."

Þórlákr blanched. "I'm sorry," he said quietly. "I didn't know."

"It's alright," Abjörn said.

"Why do you think we should do it?" Þórlákr asked with a bright blush on his face.

"Because Loki won't leave us alone until we do--"

"Tis true," Loki said with a smirk.

"And because the knowledge of it won't leave this room. We do what Loki wants this one time, no one finds out, and our lives go back to normal."

Þórlákr chewed on his bottom lip and was about to respond when he was suddenly hit with a large wave of lust.

Abjörn gasped loudly and fell to his knees while Þórlákr whimpered slightly and fell backwards on the bed to rest on his hands.

"Oh good," Loki said, "It's starting."

Abjörn could feel his manhood pulsing with need. He felt hot and fevered and his mouth was horribly dry. Not to mention empty. Suddenly, a picture of his face at Þórlákr's thighs made him moan with wanting.

Þórlákr heard Abjörn moaning so wantonly and it only made his fever spike. His heart was thrumming and his staff was aching. He was leaking and he wanted--no, needed--pressure down there or else he was going to implode.

Þórlákr, in a fit of desperation, ripped off his baggy, knee-length shorts and then his tighter leggings before reaching his trousers and slipping them off as well. Þórlákr let out a whine at the feeling of being freed while Abjörn moaned deep in his throat at the sight of Þórlákr.

Þórlákr reached down to begin pleasing himself when his hands suddenly slammed backwards against the bed. He saw chains wrapped themselves around his wrists and consequently around the wooden poles at the head of the bed.

"Ah, ah, ah," Loki said with a wide grin. "It'll be boring if you please yourselves. That goes for you too, Abbi."

Loki's head whipped around to face Abjörn, who was about to reach down into his own trousers and do exactly what Þórlákr was about to do.

Loki tsked at Abjörn and made a fake chastising face. "Oh, Abbi, you're being terribly selfish. Just look at Láki over there on the bed."

At Loki's words, Abjörn turned towards the bed and groaned. Þórlákr was lying spread-eagle on his bed, panting and sweating. His face was flushed and his eyes were closed tightly. However, the most beautiful and arousing thing at that moment was Þórlákr's staff, upright and glistening, just weeping for Abjörn's mouth. Abjörn's mouth watered at the thought of swallowing Þórlákr's staff whole, and he managed to finally choke out a response to Loki's teasing.

"You're right, Loki," he said lustfully. "I have been selfish."

Þórlákr's eyes shot open at the sound and he gazed into Abjörn' brilliant blue orbs.

Þórlákr thought he was going crazy. All he could think about was how much he needed Abjörn's mouth fully surrounding him, and later, Abjörn's manhood completely penetrating him. "A-Abbi! Please!" He practically shouted.

Abjörn growled out, "As you wish, Láki."

Abjörn pulled off all of his clothes and crawled up the bed to hover over Þórlákr. He then suddenly swooped down and captured Þórlákr's open mouth with his own. Þórlákr immediately moaned loudly while Abjörn groaned. He took control of the kiss and pushed into Þórlákr's mouth, massaging his tongue.

It wasn't long before the kiss wasn't enough to satisfy the males and they began to move, rubbing hard all along each other. Abjörn suddenly sat up and ripped off the rest of Þórlákr's clothing, causing the carpenter to arch his back and let out a moan.

Abjörn growled and thrust his head back down, this time aiming for Þórlákr's neck. He licked and nipped until he found a particularly sensitive spot that made whine and arch his neck into Abjörn.

"Please, Abbi, more!" he shouted, grinding harder and faster against the man above him.

Abjörn moaned and slipped his hands down to Þórlákr's nipples, twisting and tugging while continuing to abuse his soft spot. Þórlákr cried out and arched his back, pushing his chest deeper into Abjörn's hands.

"Gods, you're so sensitive," Abjörn groaned. He then leaned back and disconnected himself completely from the writhing man beneath him. Þórlákr whined at his movement, causing the Viking to smile.

"Patience, älskling," he said as he slithered his body down Þórlákr's.

Þórlákr was struggling to catch his breath. "Wh-what are you doing, Abbi?"

Abjörn smiled again and said, "Giving you exactly what you need."

Suddenly, Abjörn swooped down and caught Þórlákr's hard shaft in his mouth. Þórlákr's head whipped backwards and hit the bed hard. He let out a long moan and began thrusting his hips deeper into Abjörn's mouth.

"Skit, Abbi! Oh, fan..."

Abjörn moved up and down even faster, swirling his tongue around the thick staff every time it hit the back of his throat. He knew that Þórlákr was almost there, so he wrapped one of his hands around the shaft and began to pump it, raking his nails around it every so often.

Þórlákr screamed and began to thrust faster. Three thrusts later and he stilled, opening his mouth in a silent scream and releasing everything he had into Abjörn. Abjörn swallowed it all and sat up on his knees as Þórlákr slumped, sated.

Abjörn wasn't satisfied. He had looked up as Þórlákr came, and it had been the most arousing thing he had ever seen. His shaft was parallel with his stomach and it was starting to hurt. He knew he needed to be buried as deeply inside Þórlákr as was humanly possible, and then go deeper, in order to be truly sated. A blow job was not going to cut it.

Loki was quite enjoying himself, sitting on his throne as he watched the two confused men. He knew, though, that he would have to help a little if he wanted to use these two for his enjoyment ever again. So, Loki whispered into Abjörn's mind what to do next.

'Put three of your fingers into his mouth.'

Abjörn jumped slightly at the sudden voice in his head, but complied. He put three of his fingers on his right hand on Þórlákr's lips and rubbed at them before dipping them inside. Þórlákr was confused, but went along with it and ran his tongue up and down the appendages. Abjörn shuddered at the tingling he was getting from Þórlákr's tongue and quickly withdrew the dripping fingers from Þórlákr's wet mouth.

'Now what?' Abjörn thought, knowing that Loki would be listening.

'Pull up his knees and spread his legs.' Loki waited until Abjörn was finished with this task before continuing. 'Now, loosen up his hole with your fingers. Search for a spot that will make your lover scream with pleasure.'

Abjörn whimpered at the lustful thoughts running amok in his mind. He shook his head and reached down with one finger. He rubbed around the taut pink hole before suddenly shoving the appendage in as far as it would go.

Þórlákr flinched and whimpered, his entire body going stiff at the pain.

"Relax," Abjörn whispered. "Let me make you feel good."

Þórlákr hesitated before nodding and relaxing his body again as much as he could. Abjörn pumped his finger in and out, going deeper each time in search of the magical spot that Loki spoke of. Thinking he needed to go deeper, Abjörn added a second finger.

Þórlákr moaned and shut his eyes at the wonderful mixture of pain and pleasure. "Abbi, please, keep going."

Abjörn did just that, going faster and deeper. After he added his third finger, Abjörn thrust in his hand as deep as possible before curling his hand upward. Þórlákr suddenly tensed and opened his eyes wide. He yelled out and began impaling himself on Abjörn's fingers. "What was that?" he asked between gasps and pants.

Loki gave a wicked grin and said, "Your prostate. Abbi, I believe he's ready for you now."

'Finally!' Abjörn shouted in his mind. He pulled out his fingers and lined himself up at Þórlákr's entrance. He paused and looked at the man beneath him.

"You ready, Láki?" he whispered.

"As I'll ever be," Þórlákr said with a small smile.

Abjörn smiled and nodded. He took a deep breath and shoved himself inside, all the way to the hilt.

Þórlákr yelped out in pain, tensing immediately. He felt like he was being torn in half. Fire burned up his spine and he let out a few tears, trying to hold the pain inside.

Abjörn was having trouble keeping a hold of himself as well, but for a different reason. He was being squeezed so tightly, it felt amazing. Yet, he needed more. He needed the friction of thrusting long and hard, but he would wait until Þórlákr's pain passed. Abjörn felt like he owed Þórlákr that much.

Þórlákr managed to relax his muscles and the pain finally started to recede, leaving in its wake the most amazing full feeling.

"You can move now, Abbi," Þórlákr whispered.

Abjörn nodded and slid himself out slowly before moving back in at the same speed. The two men let out twin moans at the wonderful friction created. Soon enough, Abjörn was pounding Þórlákr ceaselessly, forcing moans out of the man beneath him each time his shaft slid inside. Abjörn abruptly remembered the spot he had found inside of Þórlákr with his fingers and began to search for it again. Tilting his hips upwards, Abjörn slammed into Þórlákr deeper than before.

Þórlákr saw lights flash behind his eyelids and froze, back arched, letting out a screaming out "Abbi!" as he came violently. Abjörn swore as he felt Þórlákr tighten around him and began to dig into Þórlákr with abandon. A few more thrusts and Abjörn stilled, grasping Þórlákr's hips and releasing all he had into Þórlákr before slumping down on top of him.

Þórlákr suddenly found his hands free of his bindings and began to play with Abjörn's hair while their breathing slowed.

Loki smiled and got up from his seat. He had watched an incredibly arousing scene and was quite happy with the men he had chosen to entertain him.