He had cornered a slave girl, the woman tall and thin, with only the slightest of curves. There was barely enough breast to squeeze, and the woman trembled constantly. Her fear amused him, spoke to some predator instinct inside him that made him want to pounce. A predator’s hunger wasn’t the only reason for the prince’s cruelty, lust drove much of his actions, the boy at the age when additional Drule hormones were pumping through him, leaving him wild with desires that raged out of control.
He thought his father being needlessly cruel to leave him without an outlet for his lusts, the prince wishing he had a harem, even a small one with only twenty slaves. Maybe then once he sated his body on several dozen women, he’d be able to think beyond the urges of his cock. But no matter what kind of argument he offered to his father, the King always told him no, hiding behind the lie that he was not yet old enough to manage one woman, let alone a harem full of them.
It left the prince seeking relief elsewhere, the boy picking on the slaves that made up the household’s servants. These women weren’t picked for their looks, they were there to work. Their duties ran the gamut from cooking to cleaning and everything in between. Some might think it a hard life, but as castle slaves, they had a roof over their head, and were given scraps leftover from the fine meals the King enjoyed.
They were expected to work hard in return for these niceties, but they weren’t treated with cruelty for the most part. With their plain looks and unappealing bodies, they didn’t have to fear abuse of a sexual kind, and that left them unprepared to deal with an amorous prince. Lotor chuckled under his breath, watching the slave’s face, her eyes wide, her nostrils flaring with her panicked breaths. She didn’t know how to get out of this situation, and her orders and desires were of a conflicting nature. She was to expressly obey one of the members of the royal house, to do anything they asked, no matter how distasteful she may have found it.
Of course Lotor didn’t think what he asked was so bad, the prince ordering the slave to her knees. He was too intent on getting her to open his pants to pay much mind to his surroundings, a fact that would have had his father frowning. Zarkon did not think lust was an excuse to be caught unaware, and Lotor would get an earful over allowing the King’s guards to sneak up on him.
“That’s it…” Lotor said, breath catching in his throat as the slave’s fingers touched the head of his cock. “Just like that…”
“Sire…” He nearly jumped at the polite coughing, the captain of the King’s guards trying to gain his attention. “Your father wishes a word with you.”
Lotor had stiffened when he heard those words, the slave’s hand still holding onto his cock. He knew better than to demand she finish what he had asked of her, not with a summons from his father given to him. He had to fight not to curse, slapping the relieved slave’s hands away. and adjusting his clothing so that no hint was there to betray what he had been about to do.
By the time he turned to the group of guards, they were composed as well, not even one smirk on any of their faces. It was as though they hadn’t caught their prince in an indiscretion, their eyes averted to pretend they had not seen anything. The slave remained on her knees, Lotor could hear her heavy breathing, and with a growl dismissed her from his sight.
Her hurried footsteps showed how eager she was to escape, Lotor glaring at the guard captain. “What does my father want now?” He demanded, crossing his arms over his chest.
“He wishes to speak to you of your future.”
“My future?” He frowned, wondering if this was going to be another lecture about how he was failing with his studies, and devoting too much time to trying to get laid. “Fine..” Lotor sighed. “Let’s get this over with…”
His grumbled out words were all it took to get the guards moving, the men escorting him through the castle. It was not to the throne room they brought him to, but to a side chamber, his father’s private study, the King seated behind the desk. Lotor couldn’t decide if this was better or worse, knowing he may have sacrificed a public humiliation for a long drawn out lecture from his father in private.
“Ah….perfect timing.” Zarkon said, giving a dismissive wave to the guards. They left with the merest of bows, Zarkon gesturing Lotor to come towards the desk. “Arus’ King has just contacted me.. .” A chuckle then, Zarkon wearing an unfamiliar expression on his face. It could have been a grimace, but Lotor realized with a start it was his father’s version of a smile. “No doubt he is not pleased with having to wait to speak his mind.”
“Father?” Lotor was confused, not sure why Zarkon would want to discuss the King of Arus with him.
“I want you present for this.” Zarkon continued. “What I have to say to King Alfor will affect your future as well as his.”
That left Lotor all the more confused, the young prince turning to face the view screen that Zarkon had lowered from the ceiling. Immediately a man’s image appeared on it, a human with tan skin and brown colored hair. His blue eyes sparked with anger, the human seemed barely in control of his emotions. His lips were spread into a thin line, mouth unsmiling beneath his thick mustache.
“Ah….King Alfor…” Zarkon did not bother to speak in the Arusian’s native tongue, his words in Drule. “I do apologize for keeping you waiting.” A haughty sniff from this Alfor, the King looking as though he did not buy one bit of Zarkon’s proffered apology. “No doubt you’ve received my gift?”
Lotor had to fight to keep from glancing at his father, surprise spreading through him. Since when did his father send gifts to anyone, let alone a known enemy? Even Lotor, for all his slacking off, knew of Arus and the trouble that world had caused Doom in the last two years. He knew that Arus needed to be stopped, it’s king and it’s people brought to heel, their resources being taken to further add the Doom Empire. Now more than ever it was important to keep on the offensive, and never betray the slightest of weakness to their most hated of enemies. That his father would try to do something nice for Arus left Lotor astounded, the boy brimming with curiosity and having to hold his tongue.
It would not do to openly question his father about his motives, Lotor keeping his expression schooled to be blank as he gazed at King Alfor. The human didn’t seem to pay Lotor any attention, his eyes narrowed as he all but glared at King Zarkon.
“Yes, I have.” Alfor was saying, and Zarkon made a pleased sound.
“No doubt you’ve called to thank me for my generosity.” He chuckled then, holding up a hand to stave off whatever Alfor had been about to say. “There’s no need. Just accept it, and use it well, knowing it’s just the start of the things I intend to give you.”
“Give me?!” Alfor asked, voice a disbelieving snort. He was rightfully suspicious of this, and so was Lotor, though for different reasons. He couldn’t fathom what was going through his father’s mind, why Zarkon was attempting to make friends with Arus now. It was too late for their kingdoms, even if Doom was the type to make allies rather than enemies.
“Yes. There’s plenty more gold where that came from. I know your world’s own finances are suffering a drop lately…”
“All thanks to you!” Alfor bit out an angry retort.
Zarkon continued as though Alfor had said nothing. “You’ll be able to bolster your economy, spend some of that gold on something other than military campaigns.” Zarkon continued to wear that grimace that doubled as a half smile, the King leaning back in his chair. “And of course, there is your daughter to think of…”
“My daughter?!” Alfor’s voice was sharp then, what little control over his emotions was slipping at the mention of his daughter. “What about Allura?”
This was the first time Lotor had ever even heard of there being a princess of Arus, the boy intent on his father and Alfor’s interaction. Zarkon was overly calm where Alfor was not, continuing to speak in a pleasant purr. Lotor did not like that content sound in his father’s voice, he knew bad things always happened when Zarkon felt that satisfied.
“Well, she’s a growing girl…” Zarkon said to Alfor. “At that ripe young age where fashion turns her head. No doubt it will be a relief to be able to buy her whatever clothing her heart desires.” A casual shrug of his shoulders. “I would have sent some gowns myself, but what do I know of Arusian fashion?”
“My daughter and her wardrobe are none of your concern.” Alfor retorted, and Zarkon flashed his fangs in a grin.
“Ah but she is. She and I are going to become very close you see.” Alfor seemed to lose the color in his face at those words, the man taking a step towards the view screen.
“If you so much as come near her…” Began Alfor’s threat, and Zarkon waved at him in a dismissive manner.
“Really Alfor…this is no time for threats.” He said over the human’s words. “Not when I’ve gone to so much trouble to show how sincere I am about wanting to be friends with you and your people.”
“Our worlds can never be friends!”
“Such an automatic reply.” Zarkon was hardly perturbed by it. “You haven’t even given thought to the benefits of an alliance between us, have you?” He didn’t wait for Alfor’s answer, continuing in that seductive purr. “But I have. I’ve given it a great deal of consideration, and realized it was the natural progression of all our encounters.”
“Oh you did, did you?” Alfor managed to sputter, Zarkon nodding.
“Yours is a powerful world….strong and capable if it’s manage to keep my Empire at bay. We shouldn’t keep on fighting each other, just think of what we could accomplish if we put the animosity aside and worked together? Nothing would be barred to us, the galaxy would lie open at our feet.”
“I have no desire to work with you towards anything, save a permanent peace for the galaxy!”
“And you can have that peace.” Zarkon retorted. “Our methods may be different, but our desires are the same. There will be peace through the Denubian galaxy, but only once the worlds have been brought to heel under the Doom Empire’s boots. You can be a part of that, your world can help ease Doom’s progress through the galaxy, saving countless lives in the process.”
“You propose peace through war, and that is something I cannot condone.” Alfor shook his head, frowning. “The galaxy was doing fine before you Drule attempted to take control of your neighbors…”
“There was war between planets long before we Drule began our conquests.” Zarkon pointed out. “And even if, the Gods forbid, the Doom Empire crumbles and the Drule vanish from the galaxy, the wars will continue. You humans can be as hungry for new lands as we Drule.” Alfor grimaced at that, but did not try to argue the truth of those words. “Think of it Alfor…the two years we’ve spent fighting could have amounted to something better…it’s a crime to waste any more time battling each other….we must make an alliance….”
“I’m well prepared with what I am willing to offer up to you…” Zarkon said, then touched the back of Lotor’s head. The prince turned at that touch, shocked by the fond expression his father wore. “My son will make the perfect husband to your daughter…”
Lotor’s eyes widened at that, his mouth falling open, the prince unable to keep from issuing out a protest. “Father, no!”
“Quiet Lotor!” Zarkon snapped, now looking forward to gauge King Alfor’s reaction. Lotor frowned, and turned back to the view screen, seeing the human’s face had gone red. But it was not a blush that was responsible for the change in color, but his anger, Alfor actually shaking violently.
“You think your son will marry my daughter?” It was hissed out question, Alfor incensed. Zarkon nodded, and the human let out a strangled sound. “You’re mad! You have to be if you think I would willingly consider tying Allura to a Drule, to any Drule, let alone a brat spawned from your poisoned loins!”
“Now, now Alfor…there is no need for insults.” Zarkon dropped his hand away from Lotor’s hair. “I do understand what a difficult concept it is to wrap your mind around. Giving up your only child to marry a stranger. But Lotor will be good to your daughter, this I swear. And with the two bound in marriage, Arus and Doom will be united, the people benefiting from such a match.”
“Do think about it before you give your answer.” Zarkon insisted, then smiled at something beyond Alfor. “Hello my dear child.” He purred, and Lotor realized there was a young girl’s head peering around the doorway. He couldn’t catch a good glimpse of her, she was trying to remain unseen, even as Zarkon began urging her to step forward.
“Allura!” Alfor snapped, then switched languages from Drule to Arusian. The girl seemed to flinch, then stepped into view, Lotor’s breath catching in his throat. She was one of the prettier humans he had ever had the privilege to see, with hair that fell down to mid waist, strands looking like liquid gold. Her peaches and cream complexion seemed flawless, and the colors of her dress were picked to flatter her coloring. Her eyes were two large pools of sapphire, Lotor quickly looking elsewhere to critic her form.
She was young still, not yet in the full flush of her womanhood, but already he could see the beginnings of her curves. They looked promising, the girl already having more breast than the slave he had harassed just a few minutes ago. It felt like a lifetime since he had pulled the slave down to her knees, Lotor staring at the girl, and thinking how her beauty as an adult would be soul shattering to look upon.
Suddenly a forced marriage between them didn’t seem half so bad, not if Lotor was going to claim such a pretty maiden for a bride. He knew it’d be no chore to bed this girl, and he had to fight to keep from licking his lips as he stared at her. She didn’t seem to notice his look, though how she could fail to feel the intensity he gave off in the moment, Lotor would never know.
Instead she was staring at her father, her own voice quiet and soft, apologetic even as Alfor angrily spoke to her. Occasionally she would lift her gaze from her father to peer at King Zarkon, and then she would look frightened. Lotor, having not bothered to learn more than a handful of words in the Arusian tongue, could not understand what Alfor was telling the princess. But he could guess, Lotor assuming he was ordering her to leave the room, and most likely reprimanding her for intruding on the call.
A distressed look appeared on the princess’ face, Allura bowing her head an instant before she turned, fleeing the room. Lotor found himself taking a step towards the monitor, wanting to stop her. His hand foolishly reached forward, Lotor longing to touch her, and pull her back in the room. His reactions to the princess was not lost on Allura’s father, Alfor looking at Lotor for the first time.
“My daughter…” Alfor began, switching back into Drule. “Would never, ever marry a Drule. The idea is as distasteful to her as it is to me!”
Lotor found himself blinking in surprise, wondering what was so distasteful about tying oneself to a Drule. But before he could ask Alfor that question, Zarkon was speaking.
“I’ll ask you one more time to think about this before you give me your answer!” Warned Zarkon, and Alfor shook his head.
“I do not need to think any more about it! And you are a fool if you think my answer would be anything but no!” Alfor snorted then, the look on his face disgusted. “Zarkon, you can send all the money and jewels that you want, give me all the bribes that you can afford, and my answer will always be the same.”
“Why?” Lotor suddenly spoke up, staring narrow eyed at the human king. “Why do you hate the idea so much? It’s not as though we offer you nothing in return. Indeed we offer you everything, money, slaves, lazon…and all we ask for in return is to cement an alliance through marriage. You would be a fool to turn down what we offer…”
“No boy…” Alfor’s tone was disrespectful. “I would be the bigger fool to agree to have anything to do with you and your people. You Drule are blood thirsty savages, you won’t be content until you have all of the galaxy under your control. Well, you won’t have Arus, or Allura, not so long as I draw breath. Arus will continue to fight you, and one day we will stamp out the last of your kind, Denubian will know peace again!”
Lotor frowned then. “What gives you the right to talk like that? To talk about exterminating my own race as though we were pests to be put down?”
“You are pests as far as I am concerned!” snapped Alfor.
Lotor felt heat flare in his face, a manifestation of his pride and anger. But before he could think up a suitable retort, Zarkon’s hand landed on his shoulder, the king’s signal for the prince to be quiet.
“Pests are we?” Zarkon asked, voice deceptively quiet. “That may be, but we will not be the ones to be exterminated. I want you to think of this day Alfor, think of how you could have had everything, only to spit and turn your back on it. Because one day soon, your robot will fall, and the remains of your world and your people will be assimilated into the Doom Empire!”
“That will never happen!” hissed Alfor, and now Zarkon laughed at him.
“You’ll die sooner or later human. And when you do, you will know everything you worked for was all for nothing, your people enslaved or killed. And your daughter will be no different. You’ll hate yourself for the lost chance you took from her, the chance to be queen of the Doom Empire!”
“Better to be a slave, than lie willingly in bed with one of you monsters!” Alfor retorted, but his face was so white with fright. Zarkon’s words were getting to him, even as he tried to be remain strong.
“She’ll have plenty of time to get to know us monsters!” taunted Zarkon with a laugh. “With a face as pretty as Allura’s, I’m sure she’ll be a popular toy to be tossed around from soldier to soldier.”
Alfor looked ready to kill at that, his nostrils flaring as he opened his mouth to issue some kind of retort. But Zarkon was already pushing a button, ending the transmission so that not even the first syllable of Alfor’s retort was heard.
A slow hiss was heard, Zarkon letting out an angry breath. Lotor stood staring at the blank monitor of the view screen, Alfor’s angry and murderous look seared into his memory. He thought he’d never forget the amount of hatred Alfor had shown at the thought of Lotor marrying his daughter, a hatred Lotor felt he hadn’t earned. Yes, his people did horrible things, but was being enslaved truly considered the better fate to being married to one of his kind?
“That human is a fool.” Zarkon said, his voice angry. “You saw him Lotor. Saw how I offered him so much, only to have him spit in my—our faces!” A fist was pounded on the desk, Lotor trying not to flinch at the sound. “Disappointing, but then I knew better than to get my hopes up.”
“Did you now?” Lotor asked, turning to look at his father.
“It wasn’t my idea to go to him with this alliance. You can thank the council members for this humiliation.” Zarkon snorted then. “They thought if we can’t beat them, it’s better to tie ourselves to them. I knew it would be difficult to sway him towards our side, but I hadn’t expected such hatred from Alfor…him or his daughter.”
“His daughter?” Lotor asked, surprised. He immediately thought of that sweet face, remembering how she had looked frightened whenever she gazed at Zarkon. But aside from the fear, there had been no other signs of negative emotion, certainly not the hatred and disgust that King Alfor had shown them.
“Ah yes…” Zarkon grimaced, another half smile on his face. “I forgot. You don’t understand the Arusian tongue yet, do you?” At Lotor’s confirming nod, Zarkon continued. “Alfor’s brat had her own choice words to say about the idea of marrying you.”
“Nothing good, I can assure you.” Zarkon tsked. “Shocking, such a venomous tongue on one so young. No doubt she inherited her father’s hatred. You’re lucky Lotor. You evaded her hook. She would have made your life miserable had Alfor agreed to the union between you two.”
“She didn’t look like she’d make me miserable…” Lotor protested, seeing his father’s eyes narrow.
“That’s because you didn’t understand what she was saying! She thought you ugly, a monster, and despaired at the thought of you ever touching her. She said she’d sooner slit her own wrists than marry you, and her father approved of such a thing!” A snort and a head shake followed those words, Lotor shocked.
“She really said those things?” He asked, and Zarkon nodded.
“I swear she did!” Lotor didn’t know why, but he felt distraught at the idea of the princess hating him so thoroughly. It distracted him from the crafty gleam in his father’s eyes, the prince never suspecting that Zarkon might not be entirely truthful in what he was telling him. “She vows to fight alongside her father when she’s old enough, all in an effort to bring down our Empire.”
“Well, she won’t get the chance.” Lotor retorted, feeling the first flash of hot anger push aside his disappointment. “I’ll take her down myself if I have too! Her and her father!”
“That’s good son.” Zarkon said approvingly. “But to do that, you’ll need to put some efforts into your lessons. You can’t fight a war without the necessary knowledge. Are you prepared for the hard work needed to give you the advantage in this war?”
“Yes, father.” Lotor said without hesitation, a burning need to better the princess and her world coursing through him. “I promise to learn, to do everything I can to put an end to the threat Arus poses us.”
“Good.” Zarkon leaned back in his seat, approval in his every look. “Then go seek out your teachers immediately.” A lazy wave towards the study’s door, Lotor nodding. “They’ll know what to focus on to further your training.”
Lotor gave a low bow to his father, before hurrying out the room, a determined look on his face. He had found the fire within him that would motivate him towards doing his best, to become not only the best ruler possible for the Drule, but also a fine commander in times of war. And it was born all on the bitter disappointment, a disappointment he did not completely understand.
But Lotor knew one thing, and it was that the princess Alllura of Arus would personally pay for this insult she and her father had given him this day. Lotor would not be content to just kill her, he wanted to own her, to make her suffer that with what she had hoped to avoid by denying the idea of marriage between them. Lotor smirked, and nearly laughed at the thought, thinking she’d be his whore instead of wife, to do with as he saw fit.
And never once did he consider that perhaps his father had lied to him, telling him stories about things the girl had not even thought of, let alone said. Lotor knew his father was a great many things, but he never thought of the Drule as a liar, least towards his own son. It might have saved a lot of trouble for all parties involved if Lotor had been at least a little suspicious of what Zarkon had told him………..