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Thor: Champion - 1.14
🕑 Added 2025-06-06 01:45:35 +0000 UTCThe Asgardian was durable, if nothing else.
The towering colossus of smoke and shadow looked down at the unconscious heap laying at the center of the small crater. Thor Odinson, bruised and bloody and beaten, was still alive after taking the full force of Ares’ mighty blow.
The Olympian grimaced, the faintest sliver of grudging respect running through his mind. Briefly, he thought it might have been more satisfying to have killed him… only to push those same thoughts away. He was the God of War - the true satisfaction was in the fight itself.
Still, there was disappointment. Ares had hoped for a true battle. Odinson had the courage, certainly, but not the strength.
There was no point in loitering. Delos was burning, the village and temples in ruins. His duty to Olympus was almost done.
Ares took in the sight of Thor’s broken form one last time. Then he raised his sword of shadow, raised it high above his head, ready to bring it down again, ready to use his full might and power and snuff out this foreign invader once and for all…
Suddenly, Circe’s warm presence was at his shoulder. Her smooth, sultry voice was at his ear.
“My Lord Ares… my love… do not strike this one down just yet.” His sorceress lover implored.
Ares breathed in, grunting in frustration. Yet he stayed his blade, loosening his grip.
“He’s an invader in these lands.” He growled beneath his spiked helm. “Why should he live?”
Circe’s laugh poured forth like honey, thick and rich and sweet.
“He will not live, beloved. His transgressions against Olympus and mighty Zeus will be punished - by your hand. But the true insult was dealt by the Amazons. And you should be the one to deliver proper justice.”
Ares considered Circe’s words. Yes, the prospect had much appeal - stoked by the ghost of Circe’s pleasing touch at the back of his neck. He could almost feel her lips brushing against his skin
“What kind of justice did you have in mind, sorceress?” Ares already had some idea, but he wanted to hear it from Circe’s own lips.
“If the Princess of the Amazons has turned her back on the Gods of Olympus, then what does that say of her sisters? What does that say of noble Queen Hipplyta?” Circe’s voice turned harsh, her words spitting now like venom. “Themyscira, an island of traitors, abominations, and whores. Who give themselves to foreign savages and consort with foreign gods. They have earned your cleansing fire, my love.”
The sorceress spoke the truth. And to the God of War’s surprise, her outrage seemed even greater than his own. Ares made a sound of agreement and lowered his blade. For a moment, he took in the island around him.
“Hm. And what of these wretches?” Ares gestured to the burning ruins of the village and the scattering rodents who still lived.
“Let them live for now.” Circe advised, wicked amusement flavoring her tone. “At least long enough to bear witness to your wrath and might. Let them see with their eyes the price of their sins. Let them see the power of the God of War.”
The prospect sounded most pleasing to Ares. For so long he dreamed of unleashing his fury upon the island of Themyscira. The chance to show the Amazons how powerless they truly were… Ares could not resist.
“Very well. I knew there was a reason I took you into my bed.”
Circe cackled with glee before her sweet whisper poured into his ear again.
“Go, my love. I will join you in time.”
“You’re staying behind?”
“The Princess and her barbarian pet have earned special torment, I think.”
Ares admired the woman’s severity. Whatever torment Circe had in mind would no doubt cut deeper than any blade. Even the God of War could admit some tasks were better suited to a woman’s touch.
As the Olympian turned from the Asgardian’s broken body, his eyes fell upon a temple resting untouched on a high hill. Ancient and derelict, the white marble was only half-standing - which was still half too much for Ares’ liking.
The towering shadow in dark plate marched his way up to the temple ruins. He raised his sword high one last time and swung it down hard. The earth shook and took fire… and the temple ruins were erased.
Under his helm, Ares smirked. He was looking forward to doing the same to Queen Hippolyta’s palace.
- - -
All around him was darkness, so deep and thick and overwhelming that Thor couldn’t move, couldn’t speak, couldn’t even breathe. Then, in an instant, it was gone. Vanished from every possible point of sensation.
For a moment it felt like he was floating, weightless. Then came the warmth, pleasant and soft at his back. Like he was lying upon a cloud.
Thor cracked open his eyes and was greeted with light. The glow of the sun cast through pink and lavender hanging from pillars of polished marble. Tingling his nostrils was sweetness, the scent of wine and incense and feminine company.
The Odinson sat up quickly. Alert, tense, his eyes danced around this unknown place. He expected violence, danger… war. Yet he didn’t know why. He saw no battle, only cushioned pillows, silk curtains swaying softly from the outside breeze, sunlight pouring in through open windows.
The chamber had all the delights of comfort. Thor would have been pleased… if there wasn’t a terrible ache splitting through his skull.
“By Odin’s beard… my head…” He groaned. The Prince brought a hand to his temple, attempting to soothe the pain away.
As he rubbed small circles into his head, he caught the sound of approaching footfalls… and a woman’s gentle voice accompanying.
“My brave champion finally awakens. And before midday, too.” Thor turned and saw a tall beauty, fair-skinned and full-figured. Her face was elegant, graceful features like pert lips and high cheekbones set below stunning blue eyes. She was garbed in purple silk - the same lavender shade as her long, shimmering hair. It was only as she drew close did Thor notice the true allure of her attire - the fabric clinging to the curves of her body was splendidly sheer.
“All that wine you put away, I thought you might slumber straight through winter.” The beauty added with mirth as she knelt on the cushions beside him.
As pleasing a sight as this stranger offered, Thor could not ignore the ache in his head… nor the itch at the back of his mind. Like something was trying to draw his attention - a voice too far to hear. A fleeting thought, perhaps. A memory clouded by last night’s indulgences. He was supposed to be somewhere, wasn’t he? Somewhere… important.
Thor’s eyes swept around the room again, noting now the shine upon the polished marble - it was perfect. The glow of the sun, the sway of the curtains, the gentle fragrances drifting into his nostrils… all perfect.
There was no danger here that Thor could see. So why did he feel so tense?
The Prince put those concerns aside. There was a beautiful woman sitting near. He offered her a friendly grin.
“It must have been some celebration.” He finally said to the lovely hostess. “Forgive me, woman. My memory is foggy. I mean no insult, but who are-?”
“My name is Circe.” The woman laughed. She shifted on the cushions, inching closer on her knees. Yes, the silk wrapped around her body was very, very sheer. “And you, my wine-loving warrior, are Thor Odinson, brave hero from Asgard. Just in case you forgot that, too.”
Thor let out a good natured laugh.
“You know of me?”
“I spent all last night getting to know you.” Circe’s expression turned impish. “I had no idea you Asgardians celebrated quite so… vigorously.”
She crawled even closer, resting her chin upon his shoulder. Thor did not stop her as her hands slid over his back and bare chest. Warm was her touch, gentle, soft, delightfully soothing…
“I see.” Thor kept a placid demeanor. “You learned only good things, I hope?”
Circe’s eyes were shining now, glittering blue pools swirling with keen interest. Her lips brushed over the firm muscle of his shoulder, teeth grazing teasingly along the skin.
“You could say I’ve become quite familiar with your positive qualities, Odinson.” Her honeyed voice swept into a rich giggle. Her touch grew bolder then, delicate hands drifting down to his stomach. Her fingers traced the pattern of his muscled abdomen.
Confusion be damned, Thor’s body responded. With a beauty touching him so, his cock stirred to life in short time.
It was only then did the Asgardian prince realize he was naked. Nothing, not a single stitch of clothing kept his manhood restrained. His length was solid and swelling bigger, rising high between his legs.
The woman, Circe, cooed at the sight. She squirmed her lush body even closer, pushing her silk-wrapped bosom into the firm muscle of Thor’s arm. The hand on his stomach drifted even lower, resting boldly upon his thigh. Her fingertips inched closer, closer, ever so slowly towards his fattened, growing cock.
“And look at that. Still going strong even after all of my copious gratitude.” Circe let out a lurid hum as she met his eyes. “Maybe I should thank you again, hm?”
Such was the good fortune of Thor, God of Thunder.
Yet even so… that itch, that voice at the back of his mind remained.
“Is something wrong?” The woman purred, curious now. No doubt she noticed his pinched brow and thinking gaze.
“No… I just…” Thor rubbed his temple again. The ache was sharp now, like needles sinking into his skull. Far more than what even the strongest ale could do to him. “I have a feeling… that I’m supposed to be doing something… somewhere else…”
Something important…
- - -
He wasn’t dead. He couldn’t be dead. Diana could still feel him.
The Princess raced through the ruins Ares had left in his wake, her heart pounding as she sprinted and leaped through rubble and fire.
The God of War had gone, spitting one last vile curse at the denizens of Delos before his whole, colossal being turned into dark smoke and vanished into the storm clouds.
Diana did not feel relief.
Thor had run off to face Ares alone - and was struck down. Swatted into the earth by that massive, smoking blade. Diana had witnessed it all, too far away to do anything but watch as her lover took the full might of an Olympian god.
He wasn’t dead, Diana told herself. Thor was a god, too. She would have felt him die. The whole world would have felt it. She told herself over and over as she raced towards the place where he fell.
A pile that had once been a house was all that remained in her way. Diana began to climb, frantic and desperate.
“Thor!” She cried out. “Thor, answer me!”
“Diana, wait!” She heard Nubia call out.
The Amazon captain was following a short ways behind. Sworn to protect her, sworn to bring her home. But Diana’s focus was on Thor. Only Thor.
Even as Nubia caught up and snatched her by the arm, Diana could not be dissuaded.
“Let go of me!” Diana snapped, jerking her arm free. “He’s still alive! I know it!”
Diana kept clambering up the mountain of rubble. Thor was waiting for her. Thor needed her. Nubia’s voice turned into empty noise.
The storm clouds had finally dispersed when she reached the peak. The remains of the village, the whole island of Delos, cast in sunlight again. Diana’s eyes quickly found her lover… and the sight made her heart leap into her throat.
There Thor lay, bloody and beaten, at the bottom of a smoldering crater of black dirt. Diana’s chest ached to see him so - but his state wasn’t what shocked her. There was a woman there already, kneeling by Thor’s head, gently stroking his golden hair. Like she was soothing the fallen god.
The sight did not bring Diana comfort.
The Princess needed only to look at the woman for a moment to know she was neither Amazon nor mortal. Her long lavender hair and mystical blue eyes told the truth of her nature.
Her beauty was a trap, Diana knew in her soul. This woman was no friend.
“What is this?” Diana demanded harshly. She rode a rubble slide down to the bottom of the crater, stomping up to Thor and the stranger kneeling over him. “Who are you and what are you doing to him? Answer me!”
The stranger only spared Diana a half-interested glance. Her hands stayed upon Thor’s head, softly brushing her fingertips over the bruised skin of his face. Each touch stoked the anger brewing in Diana’s chest.
“So passionate.” The woman mused, turning her eyes back on the unconscious Asgardian. “This brute sticks his cock in you once and it’s enough to turn you into the jealous wife. He must have been a good lay.”
It wasn’t embarrassment or shame that had Diana’s face burning, but Amazonian fury.
“Get away from him!” Diana snarled. She stepped forth with clenched fists. Hers was not an empty threat. That Diana had no weapons was no matter - her bare hands were more than enough.
“Careful, Diana.” Nubia had caught up, sliding down the crater slope. Unlike the Princess, the captain was armed, sword drawn and at the ready. She pointed the blade at the woman with lavender hair. “This one is the sorceress Circe, an enemy to your mother and all Amazons.”
“I fear no witch.” Diana said, her glare never wavering.
“Her magic is ancient and powerful. Strong enough to give the Olympians pause, Princess. She’s not a foe to be taken lightly.” Nubia warned.
It was a great effort to swallow down her rage. Diana breathed deeply, slowly, fighting to smother her anger. Ares was gone but his influence was still heavy in the air. Diana wanted to tackle this Circe-witch to the ground - the idea alone pleased her greatly. But the sorceress made Nubia wary…
“Circe? From the legends?” Diana said, finally remembering the old stories her mother used to tell. “What are you doing here on Delos, sorceress?”
It started as a giggle - like Circe had just heard a joke that Diana and Nubia could not. It grew into hearty laughter, wicked cackling that had Diana fuming again.
Caution be damned, Diana wanted to march up to the witch and see if she found her fists just as amusing. It wasn’t patience that kept her back - to Diana’s shock, she found that she couldn’t move. Her legs were frozen still, rooted to the earth. Her whole lower body was fixed in place, held by an unseen force. Beside her, Nubia was the same, cursing as she too tried in vain to move her legs.
All the while, Circe laughed and laughed and laughed.
“Isn’t it obvious, Princess?” The sorceress asked mockingly. Her smile was nasty and venomous. “I’m here to savor your humiliation.”
“Wretched witch!” Nubia snapped.
“If you harm Thor…” Diana tried to break free, tried desperately to do anything. “If you harm him in any way, I swear by the Goddess Athena-”
“Harm him?” Circe snorted, cackling again. “I’m showing him paradise… and what the company of a real woman feels like.”
Diana’s eyes went to the witch’s hands, finally noticing the faint glow sweeping from her fingers. Magic, she realized with horror. It couldn’t be anything else. Wicked magic delving straight into Thor’s mind.
The Princess let out a wrathful cry - heated, furious… and impotent. She could not move. She could not do anything. She could only watch.
Circe’s look of triumph was the dagger to her heart.
“Dear Princess… when this one finally wakes up… after all the pleasure I’ve given him… your beloved barbarian won’t even remember your name.”
Comments
Xolo
this cliffhanger is killing me gang
ryswell
I'm working on Thorne's Lance at the moment, but Canary Corrupted won't be far behind. The pretty bird won't be able to sing with her mouth full hehe.
Danye Loodle
When will the next chapter of Canary Corrupted be released?
