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Fandral wondered if this was how Loki would feel all the times that his gaze used to linger on him. He had, of course, never intended to come across as predatory and lecherous; he merely sought to convey, without words, that he was interested in him.
At the other end of it, however, it felt completely unpleasant. He found that he could not even meet Loki’s gaze. His stomach felt as though it hd twisted itself into a plethora of tight knots, and his knees shook and felt weak beneath him, struggling to support him and the burden of tension he now carried. Instead of enjoying the attention from the person he had spent so long vying after, he was instead feeling fear.
It didn’t help that he had been placed in a dungeon cell shortly after Thor had left Asgard. Fandral had been shocked that Odin chose to persecute him. He had been arrested for treason, and while that accusation wasn’t false, Fandral thought that surely since he had helped defeat the Dark Elves, and not to mention that the treasonous quest had been Thor’s plan in the first place, that he wouldn’t have such charges pressed against him.
But it made much more sense when he knew that the Allfather was not really the Allfather. Loki had made it clear that whatever had occurred on Svaratalfheim, he had survived, and what’s more; he had taken the throne. He had made no mention as to where the real Allfather now resided, and with Thor long gone, Fandral knew he was in trouble. Even if his friends somehow caught onto the foul play that had occurred, what could they possibly do against Loki and a legion of Eirherjar? Especially as they were weary and recovering from the battle that had occurred mere days ago.
“What’s the matter, my dear?” Loki shifted, all but slithering closer to Fandral, and it was an effort for the swordsman to keep from flinching; to keep up his facade of bravery. Loki could very well kill him in here, he knew, but that wasn’t all that he was afraid of. He was certain Loki wouldn’t do something so rash as killing him—at least not before he had taken what he had wanted.
“It’s not so fun, is it? Being leered at?” Loki demanded, his voice dripping with venom. Fandral finally looked up at him, swallowing tightly. Loki was fully dressed in his ceremonial armour, looking tall and proud with Gugnir held in one hand. Whereas Fandral had been robbed of his weapons, wearing clothing that would not afford him any protection. Simple clothing that could be easily removed.
“I never meant any harm, if that is what this is all about.” Fandral said quietly, trying to sound as calm as he could, given his situation. “Are you truly going to do this because in our youth, I may have looked intently upon you a few times?”
Loki scoffed at him, his eyes blazing with green fire. “It was more than just a few times, Fandral.” He pointed out. “You were a lech—are a lech—and a nasty one at that.”
Deep down, though he refused to admit it, Fandral knew that Loki was right. There had been a brief period when he just would not leave the other man alone, despite knowing well enough that he was not interested in him.
“What do you want, Loki?” He glared at the other. He was wary, and wished Loki would just get it over with. He anticipated that he would be forced here, with the way Loki was behaving towards him. Perhaps not even out of attraction, but out of desire for revenge. Fandral wasn’t sure if he couldn't even stomach that, but supposed he wouldn’t get a choice if he couldn’t talk his way out of it. What was even more worrying, though, was the fear of what was going to happen afterwards. Would Loki kill him? Leave him to rot in the dungeons? Banish him to some other realm?
Whatever it was, he was certain it couldn’t be good.
Loki had backed him up against the nearest wall, and he tried to calm his breathing as his space was invaded further. His heart, he felt, was beating so harshly that he felt as though it might burst out of his chest.
“Do you recall, darling, of that time we learned about cowwives?” Loki asked.
The question was so perplexing, catching Fandral so off guard, that it took a moment for it to register to him. This was ages ago, when they had just about reached adolescence, he recalled. They had been taught—while perhaps still a bit too young—of the cowwives of old; warriors of the old days who had committed crimes and were punished by being forced to undergo a particularly cruel series of operations.
“I suppose.” He replied at last, frowning. “Loki—“
“—And do you recall what you said to me afterwards?” Loki cut him off, an angry tone entering his voice. And the worst part was, Fandral did remember, now that he was thinking back. And judging by the way he was looking at him, Loki had not only remembered, but was also harbouring a grudge against him for it.
“Look,” Fandral began, and he hated the way his voice trembled. “This was many years ago. We were children.”
“You were old enough to know what you were doing!” Loki hissed. “And you said that I would make a perfect cowwife. Do you remember that, Fandral?”
“I—” Fandral stammered, feeling his face heat up from shame. It occurred to him that it was rather ridiculous that Loki was still sour about something that had happened so long ago, however crass it had been. “I remember.” He admitted.
Loki didn’t respond, he just glowered at him; seeming unsure what to make of his answer, as though he had been hoping for a denial.
“I do apologize, Loki, for how I behaved.” Fandral said, hoping that an apology might satisfy Loki. “I cannot change the past, but if there is some way for me to make things right…”
Loki let out a heavy breath—almost a sigh, before he reached out, taking one of Fandral’s hands. Fandral froze, unsure what to make of the gesture, which felt a bit too tender in contrast to how Loki was treating him. His hand felt delicate and cold in his own, and while he didn’t reciprocate, he recalled that when he was younger, he would have been overjoyed at being able to touch Loki.
“Do you know…” Loki trailed off softly, looking down at their intertwined hands with an odd concentration. “Do you remember why the Kings of old would punish warriors in such ways?”
Fandral bristled, rather puzzled as to why Loki was coming back to the cowwives. “I… they had turned to crime, hadn’t they? Nine, I don’t remember Loki. You know I was never one to pay much attention to such dull matter.”
Loki’s brow twitched, furrowing inward as though he were deeply bothered by what Fandral had said. He glanced back up, his face rather stoic, before he spoke again; “No. If you had merely paid attention instead of staring at me, you would remember that there was a specific crime that they were all being punished for.”
Fandral huffed, feeling rather like a child being lectured by a tutour. “Be that as it may, I can’t recall.” He said. “Loki, this is absurd—”
“Treason.”
“What?” Fandral didn’t miss the sudden cruelty Loki had spoken that single word with.
“The warriors turned into cowwives were all guilty of treason.” Loki shoved him back suddenly, and Fandral winced as his back connected with the wall.
“And you, my dear warrior, you must understand that this is the second time you are guilty of such a crime.” Loki turned away from him, so that he couldn’t see his face. Fandral stared at him, unsure of what he was getting at, though he felt his stomach twisting further into knots.
He began to speak, to try and get Loki’s attention, only to wince as he felt an unpleasant prickling sensation in the hand that Loki had released. He glimpsed downwards, noting with some cold terror that the veins in it had become luminescent, shining a brilliant green colour. They glowed brightly for a few moments, but then slowly faded away.
“What did you do?” Fandral asked in alarm, jerking his head back up towards Loki and moving towards him. He had barely managed to make it a solitary step, though, before a sharp ache flooded his entire body, forcing him not only to stop, but to crumble down to his knees. He cried out, catching himself before his face could hit the stone floor.
“What did you do?” He shouted, looking up at Loki with wide eyes. The pain dulled, seeming to pool away into separate areas of his body. The majority seemed to settle in his chest, but discomfort throbbed around his hips as well. His body then seemed to heat up, as though rapidly developing a fever. The shock of feeling relatively fine to utterly horrible within the span of a few seconds only made things worse.
Loki turned, coming to stand over him, surveying his body with an almost clinical glance. “You’ve been allowed to get away with everything for far too long, Fandral.” He said. “Eventually, you were going to have to get your comeuppance, don’t you agree?”
Fandral could hardly even think clearly as the aches continued to course through him. He shifted, laying down onto his side and curling up slightly, already having lost the fight. He clenched his eyes shut. It hurt. It rivaled any pain he had felt in the past. He reached up, resting a hand on his chest, thinking that perhaps soft touch would soothe it. He found that beneath his clothing, his chest felt tender. Swollen, almost.
Another ache made itself known; this one in his groin.
Fandral cried out. What was happening to him?
“Since I’m King now, I thought we would bring back a few old traditions.” Loki said, kneeling down beside him. Fandral didn’t even have the strength to try to try and push him away as the other man started unbuttoning his tunic.
The first thing Fandral noticed was that his chest was indeed swollen. His nipples were perked and erect, an irritated red colour, as if someone had abused them. Before his eyes, however slow it was, he could see that his chest was swelling further.
He tried to form words, to demand once again that Loki tell him what he had done, when a thought suddenly occurred to him, and the pieces started to clearly—sickeningly—settle into place in his mind.
“You bastard.” He gasped out. Loki just smiled, clearly amused.
“I had to do some digging through Asgard’s archives, but I managed to get lucky. I found the traditional spell that was used.” He explained. Fandral was only half listening to him as the true horror at what was happening washed over him. He felt faint, as though he would never get enough air. He yelped when Loki reached over, grabbing a fistful of his sensitive chest. He was gentle, but it still felt uncomfortable and violating.
“I made some modifications of my own, of course.” Loki continued evenly, ignoring Fandral’s discomfort. “You can than me for a quicker process, for one thing. It’ll be over and done with within the hour.”
Such a thought was hardly reassuring to Fandral. His chest was starting to look alarmingly like breasts, loosing firmness as they slowly grew larger. He tried to move, to sit up, but the ache between his legs flared up, and he quickly abandoned his efforts.
He moaned when Loki gve one of his breasts a squeeze, feeling tears well up in his eyes in reaction to it, which he quickly blinked them away.
“Breasts were always the first thing to develop.” Loki murmured, sounding as though he were reciting off of a textbook. Indeed, it was not just lust in his eyes, but a sort of scholarly admiration. Perhaps pride, at being able to recreate such an old spell. But in an instant, menace came back into his face. “You’ve always liked breasts, haven’t you, Fandral?”
“Please…” Fandral murmured, now truly fearful of what was yet to come. He did not care how pathetic he might have sounded, only that he wished for Loki to stop this madness before it got any worse. “Please don’t do this…”
“Oh, but I can’t reverse the spell now. It must run it’s course.” Loki replied mockingly. “And if my timing is accurate…”
Fandral cried out as Loki pushed him onto his back, unbuckling his trousers and beginning to tear them off of him.
“Stop!” Fandral shouted, his voice echoing off the walls of the dungeon cell. He was laid bare before Loki, and felt more vulnerable than he had ever felt in his life. He whimpered as Loki wrapped a hand around his flaccid length, giving him a few careless strokes. Any pleasure he might have felt was negated by the unending aches he felt. He felt a pain building in his scrotum, which now felt bloated by a pressure building up inside. He flinched when Loki touched him there.
“How do you feel?” Loki asked, again seeming to settle into a scholarly air. “You should be getting another flood of hormones any moment now.”
Fandral managed to sit up on his elbows, torn between begging some more or trying to shove Loki away from him. He didn’t do either of those when he glimpsed between his legs. Even from his vantage point, he could glimpse his scrotum was swelling much in the way his chest was. It felt sensitive to even the air that touched it.
And instantly, an image in a tome—the textbook the tutour had had them look through all those years ago—an illustration, deliberately erotic yet delicately rendered, he recalled, of a cowwife. Her—his?—head had been thrown back, a closed-eyed expression of pleasure traced across the face. Large breasts rendered in dark ink, droplets of white formed on the nipples. And between the legs…
Fandral had remembered being aroused by the sight, although, to be fair, he had been able to become aroused from just about anything, especially at that age. But now he could only recall the memory of that illustration with horror, at the realization of what Loki was going to force him to become.
His new breasts had already become sizable, feeling heavy and foreign on him, almost as though he was being pulled downwards. He yelped when Loki suddenly released his cock, only to fondle his aching scrotum. Fandral couldn’t decide whether it hurt or felt pleasurable. He tipped his head back, starting to pant, his eyes going wide as he felt the pressure give way to more swelling, perhaps encouraged from Loki’s gentle touch.
The fever he felt—which was giving everything a dreamlike quality, started to fade, though both his chest, his hips, and his groin still retained their unnatural warmth.
He wasn’t at all prepared when Loki leaned in, pressing a forceful kiss to his lips. He could do nothing but accept it, letting his eyes fall shut. He thought back, laughably, to the times he had desired this from Loki. But this was all wrong. Loki had turned this into a bizarre nightmare, had twisted his old fantasies into something horrific.
“Please.” He whispered when Loki had pulled away. He made the mistake of looking downwards again, and found that his breasts were just shy of blocking the view between his legs. His scrotum was swelling further out now, becoming rounder, the skin pulled tight and smoothing out, causing his cock to be tilted slightly upwards.
And was it just his imagination, or was his cock shrinking down, losing some of its length and girth?
“Loki.” He begged, looking up at the other man with wide eyes. He was past being angry, and now could only feel fear. And though he knew Loki was to blame for all of this, he was also the only one who could reverse it. And he wanted to believe that, cruel as he was, he was capable of having enough sympathy to be persuaded to end this.
But Loki just squeezed one of his breasts again, and while Fandral whimpered, it didn’t feel quite as unpleasant, even as his fingers dug into the soft flesh. “Your milk will be coming in soon.” Loki hummed. “And won’t that be nice, hmm, darling?”
Fandral moaned when Loki wrapped his hand around his cock, stroking him once more. This time Fandral could tell that his cock was indeed getting smaller. When Loki stroked him, he didn’t feel quite as much sensation as their should have been.
“I’m afraid you will lose this.” Loki said smugly. “Probably for the best, no?”
Though the sensations were muted, Loki’s stroking caused Fandral to become a bit distracted from the horror of his body being forcibly transformed. Combined with his weakness, he didn’t have any means to resist. Barely-suppressed noises of pleasure slipped from him, even as he felt a new, strange sensation begin between his legs, though whatever was happening was shielded from his view; hidden beneath the growing appendage that his scrotum was becoming.
The skin of his scrotum was now lightening, gradually turning a pale pink colour. A few small nubs had appeared on it. Teats, Fandral realized with numb, resigned fear.
His cock was just about getting as hard as it could get—which was still quite soft, worryingly—when Loki suddenly shoved him back onto the floor, resting a hand on either of his thighs and forcing his legs wide apart. Fandral whined, struggling to try and get back up, feeling the weight of his breasts and scrotum working to almost keep him pinned down.
He gasped as Loki touched the new sensitive spot still forming between his legs. His mind was catching up, recalling half-forgotten information on cowwives.
“Oh, Fandral.” Loki said, and Fandral hated the way he was looking at him. “Your pretty cunt is coming along nicely.”
Fandral cried out as he felt a finger being inserted inside of the new orifice, hardly given enough time to process the fact that he was forming one. The intrusion was painfully, and he couldn’t help but clench down on the digit. Loki chuckled, still stroking his cock with his other hand, even as it seemed to be shrinking more rapidly now before Fandral’s eyes. It certainly didn’t feel anywhere near as pleasurable. Instead, most of the sensations seemed to be pooling to his scrotum, which by now, he knew, was taking on the appearance—transforming—into a cowwife udder.
He couldn’t help it. He felt helpless and afraid, and while he tried his best to hold back emotion, he gave up his last bit of resistance and wept. Loki had said within the hour he would be transformed, and what then? He couldn’t stop thinking of the illustration. Of how he would look when it was all over.
“There, shh… it’s not so bad.” Loki hushed him, his voice soft. Sweet, almost, which made it even worse. Fandral felt him release his cock, instead giving his scrotum a rub, almost affectionately. Fandral moaned through his tears, ashamed that even in his grief his body was still giving in to pleasure—was eagerly accepting it, really. “Didn’t you always want me so desperately? And now, you’ll get to have me.”
Fandral shut his eyes as he heard Loki’s belt come undone, unable to help how violently he was trembling. His mind felt numb, though; unable to process that Loki was about to rape him on top of the changes that were happening to his body. He whimpered as he felt Loki’s cock brushing up against his new entrance. His body jolted automatically, but Loki held him down.
“Just relax.” Loki murmured. “It wont hurt so much if you’re relaxed.”
Fandral didn’t get a warning, just a sensation of pressure and slight pain as Loki started to push inside him. Fandral clenched down automatically, his eyes shooting wide open and his back arching slightly at the uncomfortable, unfamiliar sensation. Loki was barely inside him, and it already felt like he was stretched far too much. He feared he was going to tear.
“Gods… you’re tight.” Loki groaned. His face was a flushed red colour as he started to push further inside. Fandral sobbed. It hurt more than he was expecting, and he felt like he was being torn apart as he felt the cock plunge further and further into him. He didn’t dare struggle; even if he had the strength, he knew it would only serve tomake things much worse for him.
He could scarcely remember to breathe as Loki pushed in to a hilt. It was an awful sight, at least to his eyes; Loki looming above him, looking blissed out. His legs parted like a whore’s, his breasts heaving with every breath he took, his scrotum still swelling and transforming, now seeming to have drawn further up, so that it was on display, his cock having shrunk down to the size of the growing teats. He moaned as Loki grinded up against him. And despite the pain, he realized that a dull pleasure had started within his core.
“It hurts.” He begged, looking up desperately at Loki. And Loki surprised him by reaching over, wiping his spent tears off his cheek with the back of his hand, his touch gentle enough that Fandral felt himself leaning into it despite himself.
“Relax…” Loki whispered. “It’ll feel better once you’re used to it.”
Fandral was about to reply that he didn’t want to get used to it—he wanted it to stop. But he was rendered silent when Loki suddenly leaned down, towards one of his breasts, his breath hot against his nipple, still grinding his hips against him. He couldn’t think as Loki flicked his tongue over his nipple, shivering at the sensation, unsure if he liked it or not. He cried out as he felt Loki’s lips close around his nipple, latching onto the tender nub and beginning to suckle. It was a pleasurable tugging sensation, and when Loki’s tongue flicked over every few moments, Fandral couldn’t help the way his eyes rolled back, hating how good it felt, hating how it almost distracted him from the cock inside of him.
Loki drew his hips back, his eyes on Fandral as he didn’t pull off as his nipple. And though Fandral was anticipating what was to come, the sensation of Loki slamming back inside him was overwhelming. Pleasure and pain mixed together, and he couldn’t stop the obscene noise that tore from him. Loki drew back again, faster now when he pushed back inside him. Again, and again, and again. And with every thrust, it became more pleasurable and less painful.
Fandral wasn’t sure if he would have preferred it to hurt the whole way through. At least if it did, he wouldn’t have such conflicting feelings. Loki pulled off of his nipple, and before Fandral could make any form of a protest at the loss, he was already latched onto his other nipple, giving it the same attention he had given the first, his skillful tongue swirling around it as he suckled. The pain was gone, but Fandral felt a new pressure happening inside his breasts.
Loki’s cock brushed against a pleasurable spot inside him, and he gave in; moans freely spilling from his lips. He wrapped his legs around Loki, seeking more contact. He knew he would hate himself for this weakness afterwards, but right now he simply couldn’t help it.
He shivered pleasantly when he felt Loki’s hand on his other breast. His touch was gentle at first, but then, abruptly, he began squeezing the plump flesh, kneading it in his hand. And while it hurt, Fandral liked it. He liked the way Loki was groping at him, as though he were an object, a toy, instead of a warrior.
All the while, that pressure still built, and Fandral could feel it starting to begin in his scrotum as well. He yelped when Loki squeezed his nipple, and his eyes flew wide open when he saw a white liquid spray from it. Loki paused, both from his thrusts and his suckling, detaching from Fandral’s nipple, while gently continuing to squeeze his other one.
It took a moment, but eventually they both saw the white liquid begin beading as Fandral’s nipple in response to the stimulation. Loki grinned, glancing at Fandral’s face. “Ah, your milk is coming in.” He said. “I told you it would be quick.”
The pressure was still there, and was quickly becoming uncomfortable, and Fandral realized that it was milk, building up inside him. It should have been humiliating, but Fandral’s mind was slipping, and all he could think about was how he wanted it out of him, of how much better it would feel to be emptied. And Loki didn’t seem to need him to admit it out loud, as he bent his head to latch on once again.
It took a moment, in which Loki started to wrack him with gentle thrusts again, but soon enough, Fandral had the pleasure of feeling his milk letting down. He moaned loudly, finding that he enjoyed it. Loki lapped at his milk, pausing every few moments from his suckling to swallow small mouthfuls of warm milk.
And Fandral wasn’t sure when he had felt an orgasm building up, but he found himself on the verge of one, struggling to hold himself back. Loki’s cock plunged inside him at the same time as Loki sucked hard at his nipple, and he let go, a cry slipping from him as he came. It was different, of course; his cock didn’t seem to be functioning, and his orgasm felt like it came more from inside him, shattering his core with pleasure as he felt his cunt fluttering around Loki’s cock.
Loki detached, moving closer over Fandral to murmur into his ear, his voice dripping with satisfaction; “Good cow.”
And though the praise was humiliating, though Fandral should have had some common sense now that he had come, it still caused his insides to ache with pleasure at being degraded like this.Loki hadn’t come, he realized, so he knew this wasn’t over yet. He wondered, without thinking, if he would be able to come again, only to be ashamed of having such thoughts towards his own violation.
He was confused when Loki pulled out of him, and he groaned at the loss of a cock inside him, not clenching around nothing and feeling incredibly worn out and used. Loki grabbed him, turning him over, and Fandral obediently allowed Loki to position him on his hands and knees, though the weight of his breasts and scrotum seemed to be pulling him down, and it was rather uncomfortable.
He felt even more used when Loki pushed back inside of his cunt, resting a hand on either side of his hips. He liked the position less than the one before. With this, he barely even felt like a person. He moaned, oversensitive as Loki thrusted harshly inside of him. He struggled to keep himself up as the other man leaned in, making him feel trapped, shivering at the hot breath on his neck.
“Are you going to moo for me, my sweet cow?” Loki drawled. And once the words registered, Fandral felt shame burning his face, some of his earlier resistance returning. He tried to shove Loki off, but Loki rewarded that with a harsh hand in his hair, forcing his head back, bringing tears to his eyes from the sheer force of it.
Despite Loki no longer granting him stimulation, Fandral could feel warm milk dripping from his nipples. Though some of the pressure had been relieved in his breasts, the amount in his scrotum now felt painful. And Fandral didn’t have it in him to feel humiliated—he just wanted the pressure gone. He tried to reach beneath him amid Loki’s harsh pounding, but Loki again tugged on his hair, wordlessly telling him that he wasn’t allowed to do that.
:”If you do what I ask, perhaps I’ll grant you some relief.” Loki drawled, voice thick with pleasure. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you? It must be so uncomfortable, with all that milk building up inside you…”
Fandral shut his eyes, letting his head drop,. Every thrust sent him forward, and made him all too aware of the milk inside of him. And what was more, he could feel his body quickly giving in to pleasure, already seeming to gear up for another orgasm. He wondered how it would feel if Loki fondled his new appendage, and perhaps if his mind had not been so addled, he would have resisted.
As it was, though…
“...moo…” Fandral’s voice was quiet, almost murmured entirely under his breath, barely loud enough for Loki to hear.
“What’s that, darling?” Loki asked, and Fandral could all but feel the mocking smirk on his face. “Speak up; I couldn’t hear you.”
Fandral shut his eyes, focusing on the sensation of Loki’s cock pounding away inside of him. He imagined how good it would feel to be emptied of his milk.
“M-moo…” He felt an ache go through him at just how much he was degrading himself further. “Moo…”
Loki’s thrusts grew harsher, almost shoving him onto the floor, clearly excited by the fact that Fandral had given in.
“That’s it, my cow. Keep going for me.” Loki released his grip on his hair, instead reaching beneath them both, and Fandral gasped as he felt his hand closed around one of his teats, squeezing down on it. It felt incredibly good, both from the pleasure of his milk being let down, and from the sensitivity. It almost felt a bit like being stroked. He clenched around Loki’s cock, moaning.
He did not forgot Loki’s order, and didn’t even think about disobeyed, about anything that would cause the end of such pleasure. He made quiet, timid mooing sounds, laced with pleasure, encouraging Loki to keep going. Everything felt so good, that all thoughts of how he would get out of this were wiped clear from his mind.
It wasn’t long before he came again, all but sobbing from the severity of it. Pleasure throbbed through his body, making him feel weak. He all but collapsed underneath Loki, who followed shortly after, sheathing himself and spilling his seed inside him with a grunt.
Fandral was trembling, and when Loki pulled out of him, he lowered himself to the cold dungeon floor, breathing heavily., curling up onto his side. His mind felt clouded and lost after his throes of orgasm. All he seemed to be able to focus on was the seed leaking out of him and the dull contractions of his walls, feeling horribly empty without Loki’s cock. He watched, from the corner of his eye, as Loki pulled his trousers back on, taking his time with every movement, brushing out whatever wrinkles that had formed on his clothes and running a hand through his hair, making sure it was slicked back.
“I have to return to the throneroom.” Loki announced lightly. “But perhaps, someday, you’ll be worthy to kneel before me on the throne. Would you like that, my cow?”
Fandral knew he should have felt more humiliated than he was at Loki continuing to call him a cow. Instead, he turned over onto his back, parting his legs once more, should Loki decide to have his way with him again before he left. He wanted to feel the pleasure he had felt again.
Loki chuckled, coming to stand over him. “I’ll be back soon, I promise.”
He bent over, pressing another kiss to Fandral’s lips, and this time Fandral leaned into it, kissing him back with as much force as he could muster. He didn’t know what was wrong with him—why he could’t bring himself to try to resist Loki anymore, why his mind felt so cloudy that he could hardly process anything at all.
He was left alone, still trembling from pleasure, in the dungeon, unsure of how much time would pass. He felt pressure start up in his breasts and udder shortly after Loki had left. He glimpsed down at his body, changed drastically in such a short time. With one hand, he gripped one of his nipples, pinching down and causing a bead of milk to dribble down out of it. And with his other hand, he tugged at one of the teats of his fat udder, moaning with pleasure as he milked himself, dampening the dungeon floor with his milk.
Eventually, he knew he regret all of this. But for now, he would enjoy all the sensations that came with being turned into a cowwife.