"On your knees, mortal!" he sneered, making the word an insult.
Even naked before him - who towered over me - I stood proud, my head held high, refusing to so much as look at him, not that he would notice.
Thus, to my own detriment, my pride - as was predicted by the quote - went before a fall that he caused by somehow elegantly - as if it was some kind of dance move - sweeping one of those long legs of his against mine, and, in a mater of the blink of an eye, I found myself in an ungainly heap at his feet.
On my knees before him.
Right where he wanted me - and everyone else on Earth - but especially me - to be.
Without thinking, I looked up at him - startled at just how long a ways it was to eyes that glared back at me, offering nothing in the way of comfort, and everything in the way of demand and expectation and the promise of pain he would thoroughly enjoy watching me writhe in.
He took a step closer to me, appearing instantly just that much larger, as he fumbled with his armor enough to free himself.
I couldn't suppress a gasp at the sheer size and girth of him, receiving a decidedly evil chuckle for my efforts.
"Take it! All of it! Now, girl! That is why your mouth still exists - to please your King."
Surprisingly unsure whether it would be better to disobey at this point or not - since I would then have him in a very delicate position - I leaned forward, reaching out to take him gently in hand, but he smacked it away.
"No hands! If I had wanted you to bring me off with your hand I should have asked for that. One would think you had never done this before. You must only use your lips and tongue." He regained his full height again and I saw him twist his hand at the wrist. I immediately discovered that my arms were no longer under my control, and they found their way - despite how I struggled against it - behind me, held there by an invisible power.
In order to do so, I was forced to come that much closer to him, my knees against the very tips of his boots as I opened my mouth, somewhat hesitantly hovering - for just a second - at the great bulbous tip of that his veiny thickness, where a drop of himself had already gathered.
Apparently those few seconds were longer than Loki the First, Conqueror of New York was willing to wait, for in the next instant, I found my mouth and part of my throat full of him, to the point of wanting to choke, my lips against his lower belly, surrounded by curly black hair that tickled my sensitive skin mercilessly.
I had to either try to choke or wretch - or both, knowing full well that either negative reaction would probably get me killed. Swallowing while so encumbered wasn't easy, but the half measure I was able to achieve around him helped some, and I did my best to try to relax both my throat muscles and myself in general - with the same mixed results.
My tongue moved naturally against the underside of that great length, and I heard a strangled groan from well above me.
"Stay still, girl!" he growled, a cruel hand twisting itself into the hair at the back of my head - the floor length mass of waves he'd set loose when he'd awayed any sort of adornment from my body moments ago. Those unyielding fingers kept my mouth right where it was as I tried not to cough and choke and spasmodically swallow around him, all of which - despite his command to be still - only seemed to make him even more excited, as if he was thoroughly enjoying the sounds and feeling of my obvious struggle to accept him.
Eventually, he used his hold on my hair to move my head back, so that his cock was completely disengaged from me, only to shove my mouth back onto him seconds later with a terrifying roar of disapproval.
