That was likely just as well. The bar never closed, it was semi-lit and rowdy, couplings of all types began within its graffiti- and booze-stained walls (genitalia never made contact, that was too much even for this place)…and only Drules dared to be served here.
It wasn’t a Drules-only bar, as evidenced by the non-Drules amongst those serving the customers their drinks and small meals, but once they started going there, fear and prejudice kept others from even coming close to the planet. And of course there was the couplings issue. Drules especially were killed if they were even suspected of homosexuality. Other Drules were brave enough to deny they saw such “crimes” even under torture, but this was not so with other people. Especially in a place like this bar.
So Drules could feel comfortable to be themselves in this bar. But this wasn’t enough for Merla, wearing a skirted battle uniform and sitting on a loveseat made worn by years of careless abuse while sipping a purple-colored martini and looking for something interesting to watch.
This was her first time in this bar, and possibly her last. She had told her crew to fly her here was because she had heard that the drinks were good. The truth was, she had had nothing to do and had been in the neighborhood, so to speak. But the boredom wasn’t worth it. All she had seen so far were punches and fights and gropes and sucks… For someone who believed that she had done it all and seen it all, the monotony was almost unbearable.
If a Drule whose presence alone could cause war came in here. At the least, Yurak or the infamous terrible trio of Cossack, Ryder and Sabbath, who fought like crazy and gave Lotor so much trouble but remained loyal to him. Someone to kill this boredom! But perhaps any or all of them WERE here, wearing disguises or moving within the dusty shadows created by the dirty lights – gods, at least the proprietors could CLEAN the place more than a few times a week!
But neither they nor the general patron population cared enough. Their concern was booze and they were blind to almost everything else that went on in here.
They all were fortunate that there hadn’t been any lawsuits associated with this place yet. But one day, oh yes, one day this bar’s relative anonymity would be lost through scandal and trouble.
But the Drules would just shrug and go on to another bar, wouldn’t they, leaving the proprietors to deal with the mess. This wasn’t the only bar in the entire universe.
Haa, haa, Merla thought, without enthusiasm.
An orange-skinned female server wearing the bar’s uniform of a loosely buttoned hip-length white shirt over tight knee-length black shorts put a bowl of a crunchy snack mix next to Merla’s glass. Merla didn’t even want to acknowledge her, but she checked the woman out. Just for a distraction.
That was a lie. Everyone here was a potential screw for everyone else here, and she wanted in. Male or female or both, it didn’t matter. And the kinkier the better. She liked it soft and smooth sometimes, but inevitably her Drule warrior blood would scream for violence, for pain. To conquer and/or kill. Of course, only Drules could withstand such treatment from other Drules. So why were any non-Drules here? Like this server?
Her clit seemed to twitch as the possible reasons for this.
Soft-looking creamy skin. Nice tits barely concealed by a translucent front-hook bra. And a hungry look in the red eyes that roved over Merla as she imagined how the other woman would feel and taste.
Merla didn’t meet her gaze. She liked what she saw, but she already knew that this woman would be an inadequate screw. Good for humans maybe, but not for a Drule. Merla was a hands-on expert in these matters.
Sensing Merla’s impersonal rejection, the server frowned, then shrugged and walked away. Maybe later this very sexy blue-haired woman would want to get hot, wet and creamy. In the meantime…there was a Drule woman who was already waiting for her, with her top raised to expose her bosom, her pants and thongs around one ankle and her legs parted wide…
If Merla had watched this, she would have seen the server hurry to obey the Drule woman’s silent command and then be irritably shoved away a few seconds later because she had unknowingly proved Merla correct about her inadequate screwing skills. But Merla had already forgotten about the server.
She sighed. The munchy wasn’t free and she hadn’t ordered it. It was a mistake, or someone wanted her to have it. It didn’t matter. She didn’t want it. So she ignored it.
“…Lotor sent out another decree,” a half-buzzed woman whispered to her male companion a few meters away.
Merla scowled. Drule hearing meant that whispering was a waste of time in here. But it was the mention of Lotor’s name that had gotten her attention. She and Lotor had had each other a few hot, sweaty and juicy times, and if not for his obsession with the little Princess of Arus there might have been more. He had had the audacity to call Merla by her name during one of his typical many orgasms during the last time they had screwed, and Merla had pushed him away and then stalked off without a word. She couldn’t have killed him if she’d tried, he was too strong for both her mental and physical abilities. But her leaving him like that, cruising with no place to land, had told him enough. He had yet to contact her again. And she sure as hell wasn’t going to contact him.
She didn’t know why he continued to be bothered with Allura. She meant nothing now. No, she had never meant anything, it was her planet that had been been precious. Rich lands and resources. Several months ago, Lotor, with Haggar at his side, had finally conquered it after far too many years of failed attempts. But he had overdone it. In fact, he had blown it up. Been too trigger-happy and feeling too triumphant. Overconfident, as well; he had been certain that Allura would yield herself to him. But she and many of her people had secretly left the planet a few days before he had arrived, which Merla personally knew still rankled him. The people who had remained on Arus were now just memories that fueled the anger of the survivors who with others constantly attacked the Drule Empire. The weak areas, of course. But also the strong ones. They had revenge and peace to aim for but nothing left to live for. How admirable. But also stupid. Throwing their lives away like that.
The “boys” of the Lion Voltron Force had been devastated by the loss of Arus. Unable to remain as a team, they had gone their separate ways and had sent Voltron to an overly grateful Galaxy Garrison without Allura’s permission – apparently, she hadn’t been available to give it, and obviously that small technicality didn’t matter. Coran, not trusting “GG”, taught diplomatic relations at the Space Academy and kept a secret eye on “GG”. Nanny was living with a girl’s survivor and her family.
But Allura had yet to be found, though every now and again stories were heard about a black-haired woman with heaven’s blue eyes and an even more incredible body in sexy outfits who was screwing her way around the universe with a chestnut-haired man. Other people had probably already guessed, but Merla didn’t need her powers to know that this woman was Allura in disguise and denial. No one else had those eyes, and she more than anyone knew what she would be in for if she ever fell into Lotor’s taloned grip. She had to live life on the run. But why in such an inadequate disguise? As for the sexual liberty, it was likely her way of dealing with her personal tragedy. Or she had snapped. Or both.
The man was probably a slightly disguised Lance, with whom the princess had always shared an attraction. Only he would be both brave and strong enough and would have enough of Allura’s trust to be her lover. If it was true that their relationship had become that hot, it had likely developed – and secretly – either right before or after The Grand Escape; one or the other or both had felt that they would never see each other again – no, Merla reconsidered, they had secretly screwed before the escape and had then made arrangements that would make certain that they would continue to see each other.
At least she had part of a brain. Lotor was an idiot. He had spent so much time and money on the Final Plan or whatthehellever that had ended with Arus’ accidental destruction that he hadn’t yet earned back enough resources to find his unrequited love object. An almost colossal oops. The decrees were his way of hiding his shame while demanding that others spend their resources doing his work for him.
Selfish, cheap ass…
But that no one had obeyed the decree yet meant that those who knew it was Allura and Lance didn’t want to get involved, or, for whatever reasons, were protecting them from Lotor-
There was a little commotion near the bartender’s area. Voices revealing various states of buzz were fussing with each other to move so that the humans could be better seen.
Humans? Could it be?
She moved to see for herself, and yes, it was the black-haired woman and the chestnut-haired man. And it was Allura and Lance. Imagine them walking into a place like this! Were they truly insane? But look, neither of them was afraid of their company and both of them were decently dressed, her in a cotton knee-length dress with a matching jacket and him in bluejeans and a plain white t-shirt.
Merla understood, and nodded slowly.
These two weren’t completely insane or stupid. They had dyed their hair, dressed however they wanted and behaved as they pleased simply because they wanted to. They didn’t care who did or said what about them or their appearances.
That would of course change once Lotor got his act back together and discovered where they were. Their appearances wouldn’t matter then, but their behavior would determine whether or not they lived. They certainly knew that.
Merla admired their freedom though. No kingdom to run. No planet to maintain. No enemies to fight. No teammates to have to compromise with. No freaking Galaxy Garrison or its ridiculous Galaxy Alliance to keep quiet with fees and promises. And no Nanny or Coran to have to deal with. No responsibilities except to each other – but that could change. They weren’t strangers getting to know each other. They had memories. Given time, that was either going to keep them together or fling them apart. And they knew that.
She wondered if they knew she was here. The possibility excited her a little.
Lance caressed Allura’s knee with a hand. Then he casually slid the hand under the dress, under whatever was covering her mound and then slid two fingers – TWO! – into her slit.
Merla involuntarily gasped. The ladies’ man reputation was justified! She had heard that he had a monster of a prick. Oh, why had she never verified it for herself? Just because he had been Red Lion’s pilot and she still hated anything associated with Voltron? Look at that crotch. So promising!
But wait a minute! What the HELL was going on here?! Truly, it was nothing more or less than what others were doing in the bar. But…BUT!
Keith the jackass pipsqueak flyboy is still a virgin. Imagine how much seed he’s got stored up? I should find him and fuck his brains out just to ruin him for the rest of his life. He deserves it!
She cursed. No, no, that wasn’t what she was supposed to be thinking about right now!
Heavy panting from the Drules around them, but all Allura did was ask for a beer.
Merla jerked. ALLURA drank booze? That little stupid blonde? Was this an acquired truth, or was it rebellion against her oh-so-proper upbringing? But why NOT? She was allowing her underling to finger fuck her in public, wasn’t she?
Do you play with his cock? Do you suck his cum? Take in in the ass, do whatever he wants? Of course you do. He’s in charge when you two are alone; all your prim-and-proper goes ass-over-head screaming out of the window. Because you don’t quite yet know how to act in bed, you haven’t been fucking as long as he has, and besides he’s a MAN, and no matter how you act you were raised to be subservient to one. That’s chauvinisim, the TRUE Viray Treaty way, the Treaty you and so many other stupid people respect so much. But you hate it, don’t you? That’s the REAL reason you never got married. You like to be in charge. Or at least try to ACT as though you are. You’re not fooling anyone, Allura. Not even yourself. And definitely not your lover, there. Do you think he’d even APPROACH you if you were high-and-holy?
Almost without realizing she was doing so, Merla watched Lance’s hand. In, partially out. In, partially out. And Allura’s hot, juicy aromas were wafting through the air. Faces were sweating. Hands were clenching. Mouths were drooling. And more and more eyes were fixing on Allura’s luscious body – the dress wasn’t tight, but you could see why she was the subject of many dreams and fantasies. And many more were being formed in many minds now.
Dumbasses. ALL of them. Including Lotor. Oh, he SAYS it’s your spirit he likes, but just like every other lustlost fool he wants that body all to himself-
Merla exhaled. That was jealousy talking. And not just when it came to Lotor. Allura always outshone every other woman she was in a room with. And she was outshining everyone else in this bar, in a way that made her like the sun and them like flowers eager for her light. Merla didn’t understand. She was beautiful, too, and her body was even more luscious than Allura’s. Even if she didn’t have those natural attributes, she had power. Lots of power! She could buy the sun and convince people to gladly colonize it at the expense of their lives!
So why? Why such a fuss over that stupid little blonde brat? Lotor’s fascination she could understand, but why was Lance of all people so into her? That hair? Those eyes? Those-
Merla caught herself staring at Allura’s bosom and scowled before looking away…looking down, rather, at Lance’s still casual hand movements. As though he was just singing along, humming a song.
The beer came. Allura shifted a little, popped off the top with both hands like a tiddley-wink, grinned as the top went flying and then raised the bottle to her lips and guzzled the foamy liquid like an expert. No salaciousness at all. She was truly enjoying the booze.
She still didn’t acknowledge Lance’s hand. But her face, neck and legs were sweaty and her skin was flushed. She was going to come soon. Right in front of her audience.
The top landed a meter or so away from Merla’s feet.
Merla’s eyes narrowed into dangerous little slits.
The BITCH! They DID know she was here. Allura had great aim, though. Which was understandable, given her former profession as a Voltron pilot. She’d been well-trained at least.
“Well-trained” made Merla smirk. “Well-trained” could be applied to a dog. Woof, woof, bark, bark, wiggle your tail for your master. Lay down and BEG for your treat…
That gave Merla an idea. She needed peace and vengeance, didn’t she? After all, she had come here to relax, and these two had disturbed that.
And she owed them one, didn’t she? That pipsqueak team had interfered with her plans. Interfered with her LIFE. Too many times. Too bad it wasn’t the whole team within her sights now.
Allura jerked, swallowed, bounced, then came with little gasps while holding the bottle inches away from her mouth, apparently unaware that beer was dripping onto her dress, and Merla was sure that she wasn’t the only one who could see her slit pulsing around Lance’s fingers. She couldn’t suck them in any deeper, he was in to the hilt.
Lance looked at the beer stains. Then he looked directly into Merla’s eyes. His own eyes were triumphant, as though he’d won whatever battle he’d been having with her.
Merla’s eyes blazed. Why, that piece of-
Without looking at the bowl, she dipped a hand into it and crushed some of the mix to dust. Lance had won a battle. He knew that she, like so many other people, wanted to screw Allura, but only he had the right to do so.
The realization of her desire for Allura of all people made Merla mutter vile curses. SHE wanted that pipsqueaky brat slut? The little girl who had the nerve but not the brains to try to run a planet by herself? Who thought she was too damned good for anyone’s hand?
But WAIT! Had Allura told her toyboy to come here specifically to aggravate Merla? Because they both knew that one wrong word and princess and prettyboy would be dust, just like the mix Merla was still crushing.
Merla couldn’t believe that Allura would do so much and go so far just to jump on her nerves. She wasn’t completely stupid. And Lance normally wouldn’t bother.
A slow and evil smile appeared on Merla’s face. Allura wanted her and she couldn’t bear it. Yes, that had to be it. Allura had started out hating Merla simply because she was a Drule. But over time she had realized that Merla wasn’t as bad as she thought she was, and inevitably had begun to admire more and more and ever more the independent Queen who lived however she wanted without needing permission.
Do you know that Lotor and I fucked, Allura? Merla leaned forwards a little. Did it make you boil over with jealousy? But all is not lost. Do you want to know how Lotor tastes? How I taste?
She was still eye-locking with Lance, but now his eyes were narrowing a little. He knew what she was thinking even though she hadn’t projected her thoughts into his mind.
She didn’t care.
I can give you what you most want. But I will make you beg for it.
Awwwww. Was he feeling left out? There was no need for that. She was going to punish him too. Surely they didn’t think that she was going to let them walk away.
Still eye-locking with Lance, she silently told her crew to come back to the planet and grab the sexbirds when they left the bar. They hadn’t come here to party. Allura had wanted something to drink and this had been the closest place to get one. And whether or not they had also come here to aggravate Merla, they had decided to give her and everyone else in here a little show.
What had Allura said to Lance to make him agree to that part of it? Had she pulled rank? Made threats?
It didn’t matter. What did matter was that watching the show had aroused her a little, had made her want to sample Allura’s juicy flesh for herself. Maybe she always had. Lance’s infamous cock was on her mind, too.
Imagine that thick monster of a prick pounding in and out of her own slit while she sucked Allura dry…
I’ll get you. Just you wait. It’ll be MY name you’ll be screaming to the heavens! BOTH of you!
Lance looked away. Of course. He had just wanted to prove a point. But knowing that Merla’s now-blazing gaze was on both of them, he very slowly removed his fingers from Allura’s slit and wiggled them in the air.
Merla yanked her hand out of the mix and both hands clenched in a strangling motion.
Bastard. I HATE YOU!
Not good. She had to calm down or else there would be a war in this bar.
She squeezed her eyes shut, counted to five, and then opened her eyes again.
But I WANT you.
He was so cocky. So arrogant. So full of himself. So hot-tempered. So WILD. A blazing fire contained within the body he enthusiastically maintained and a heart no one would ever be allowed to touch. Red Lion, indeed. And he well knew that if he even tugged at the waistband of his pants, women in here would either faint or fight each other as they swarmed him.
Merla knew that she would be the one who would reach him.
Both of these humans absolutely had to be punished.
Ah, the thought of it! Allura’s slit and Lance’s cock both pulsating with need and seed and life as she gobbled up their offerings…their nipples hardening and puckering from whip-hits, bites and licks…their firm asses and soft skin covered with bruises and abuse…breasts bleeding from scratches…ah, more, MORE!
Lance was rubbing his fingers around in a pocket. When he took the hand back out, it had paper money in it. He flashed three fingers of the other hand twice at the grinning bartender.
He wanted a six-pack of beer…
Merla didn’t see the nostrils that twitched as her own heat wafted through the air. And she didn’t look at the man who approached her. She just pushed him down and towards her crotch.
Eagerly, he raised her skirt and ripped her panties off, spread her legs and eagerly suckled and nipped his prize.
When the bartender gave Lance the beer, he grinned as he took the payment. Then he gave Lance two more beers, which caused a round of knowing cheers and laughter.
“Come on,” Lance said to Allura, then both of them started towards the back exit, trying not to ride on the reactions to the “good” they had brought to the place.
Merla’s fantasies fully took shape within her mind. She cruised. She cursed. Then she soared. Higher and higher, there seemed to be no apex to her pleasure.
“Oh gods…more, MORE…”
She couldn’t be too loud, she shouldn’t draw too much attention to herself, or she wouldn’t be able to leave until she’d had everyone else in the bar at least twice. But the punishment was so good, oh so good…
The man probed deeper. It seemed he wanted his face to be one with her slit. But that was all right.
Suddenly, she and everyone else in the bar heard the distinct THUMP of a space cruiser landing on the planet. Seconds later, Lance’s VERY loud curses caused various mutterings and mumblings throughout the bar.
Merla grinned from ear to ear – her boredom was about to end! – and then she came, bouncing under the man’s grip as the contractions took over her body and mind, not caring that she almost called out Allura’s name.