Pride 12

There was always a lot to do when a new planet fell to Doom’s invasion. The people needed to be subjected, their spirits broken, their hopes dashed. There was many ways to accomplish such a thing, though one of the most demoralizing things Lotor had learned to do, was to show off the fate of their rulers. Many of the conquered always broke when they saw the bruised and battered bodies, the enslaved women and children, and the corpses of the men. And if that didn’t work, there was always turning such tactics onto them, Lotor allowing the Drule soldiers to have free reign in torturing the people captured.

It would be no different here on Arus, although the presentation of the dead King’s body would have far reaching effects. The other planets, especially those that were part of Alfor’s galaxy alliance, needed to see their leader was dead. It would send an effective message, and with Voltron in pieces, the rest of the Denubian Galaxy would lose their hope.

The squashing of that hope was a good thing, the Doom Empire had for too long been at a disadvantage thanks to Alfor’s machinations. It was time for Doom to recover ground, to recoup it’s losses. Arus would become an example, it’s land worked until there was nothing left for it to give, and then the planet discarded. The people of Arus would not be so lucky, the humans spending the rest of their lives as slaves. They would live and die under the Drule thumb, ceasing to be anything but a number on their collars.

There was time before he had to see to the day’s business, many of those under his command enjoying the new supply of women they had gained when Arus had fallen. Lotor couldn’t begrudge them their pleasure, though he did envy them. He himself had expected to be sampling Allura’s wares, when Haggar and her damn visions had warned him off taking the girl. Such was his anger and disappointment, he hadn’t been able to muster up the enthusiasm to claim another female, Lotor spending much of the night lost in thought.

He would be glad when Haggar was well enough to decipher her vision, Lotor wanting to find a way to counteract the ruin she foresaw for him. But until then, there was other ways to torment Allura, to break her into becoming an obedient slave. She had a lot of fight in her, but then he wasn’t surprised. Not after she had taken to attacking Drule ships, the girl proving she was not a meek little flower.

He well remembered his first sight of her on the castle’s tower, the girl seated behind the laser gun. She had been enraged, her eyes full of hate and grief, Allura screaming things out at the ships above her. She had openly dared them to fire down on her, the girl seeming reckless and uncaring if she got killed. He knew now from the words she had spoken to him, that Allura currently did not care if she lived or died, living only for revenge.

He wouldn’t grant her either of her wishes, neither a death by his hands, or to allow her to succeed in avenging her father and her people. But he knew it would be amusing to watch her try, much like it had been when she had climb into bed with him, her intentions murderous. That amusement wouldn’t make him careless though, he well knew what she was capable of.

Any grudging admiration he had had for her, that night on the castle tower, had fled when Cossack’s ship had gone down. Shock at her success nearly overrode the pleasure of the moment when he first took her in his arms, and the continued worry for Cossack is what had made him stop when he spied the doctor in the halls. Lotor recognized him as one of the surgeons who had worked on Cossack, and he immediately ordered the man to talk to him about his friend’s condition.

The doctor had been nervous, but didn’t let that emotion cause him any hesitation as he slipped into medical jargon. Lotor had limited medical knowledge, knowing enough to do an adequate job of dressing wounds on a battle field. He wouldn’t be able to do any life saving miracles, but he might be able to keep his soldiers alive long enough for a medical professional to save them.

The doctor had a chart with him, several papers clipped to it’s surface. Lotor released his hold on Allura, being far more interested in the progress report on his friend than the girl. There was a diagram of Cossack’s body, with the spine highlighted in red. The doctor’s finger hovered over that red area, Lotor noting the red extending towards Cossack’s legs.

“What does it mean doctor?” Lotor asked, having a sinking suspicion as to what the red signified.

“Well…” The doctor sighed heavily. “The red marks the damage to his spine. As you can see, much of it is focused here in the lower half. That is because that is where the majority of the shrapnel lodged itself in. There was extensive injury done to the spine….this is just an estimate, but we fear the damage was such that it will affect his mobility in his lower body. Especially in his legs.”

If Lotor had been the one to hold the chart, it surely would have fallen to the floor, the prince going numb at the doctor’s words. “Are you telling me….he might not be able to walk? That he’ll be paralyzed?”

“That’s always a possibility.” The doctor was cautious as he answered. “We won’t know for sure until the Commander awakens and tells us what’s going on with his body. But…” The doctor lowered his eyes, and that was enough for Lotor to know how bad Cossack’s chances were. “We are not holding out much hope that he’ll be able to regain feeling in his legs.”

“Damn!” Lotor snapped, even as the doctor turned the page on the chart, trying to show him something else about Cossack. But a hot flash of anger was coursing through him, Lotor moving to look at Allura. He hadn’t forgotten she was there, distracted as he was by the news about Cossack. He switched to basic, snarling at her as he turned. “Are you happy, you little witch?! You…”

He had expected to see her, either cowering from the animosity in his voice, or glaring defiantly at him. But she was gone, Lotor snarling wordlessly, as he turned this way and that, checking both sides of the long corridor. There was a lack of people around him, the doctor nervously shuffling through his papers.

“Where the hell did she go?!” Lotor growled, and the doctor glanced up.


“A small one.” Lotor retorted, but offered no further explanation. “Keep me posted about the commander. I want to be informed the instant he wakes up.”

“Yes, sire.” Agreed the doctor, but Lotor was already stalking away. He had to fight to keep from growling continuously, a glare on his face as he tried to figure out which way Allura would have gone. And all the while he berated himself for the stupidity of diverting his attention from her, especially when he knew she wasn’t broken yet. As an untrained and newly acquired slave, Allura should have been kept under a close watch. Letting go of her, and turning his back to her was just asking for her to take off.

He knew she wouldn’t get far though, not with her looks and her body. She could try to walk the halls and pass for one of the many slaves that had the privilege of moving about the ship, but a beauty such as hers would invite danger. There wouldn’t be many Drules who wouldn’t try to pounce on such a tempting morsel, and Lotor was alarmed by how angry such a thought made him. Especially when the girl was to mean nothing to him, except as an outlet for years of anger and frustration.

And yet he felt possessive of her, Lotor not wanting anyone to touch Allura. He tried to tell himself it was because she was untouched, that he viewed her virginity as his right to take. He tried to reassure himself he’d feel none of this panic if he had done what he had wanted to, spent the night having sex with her, Haggar’s vision be damned.

He barely remembered the communicator on his belt, Lotor snatching it off to radio the ship’s command center. “Yevansta here.” Came a female’s voice, and Lotor snarled back.

“This is the prince. I’m heading east in corridor alpha twelve. I’m looking for a runaway slave, she has blonde hair and is dressed in brown. It was less than five minutes ago when she made a break for it.”

“One moment please.” Yevansta wisely did not comment about Lotor losing the slave in the first place. If she had, Lotor might have ordered her execution. Instead she grew silent save for the click clack of her fingers typing on her keyboard. And then, an answer came. “You’re going in the right direction, She’s three corridors away from you…”

“Acknowledged.” Lotor said, and turned off his communicator. He began walking faster, practically barreling over a random slave at the next corner. He snarled and snapped his teeth at the frightened boy, but didn’t pause to punish him for getting in his way.

When a frightened female’s scream sounded in the hall, Lotor broke into a run. He heard laughter from passing soldiers, the men and women making comments about the pretty little slave that had been found unattended in the corridors. They didn’t realize she belonged to their prince, and Lotor’s stomach turned at the knowing looks one pair exchanged, as they joked about her current fate.

He stepped through a doorway leading into the next corridor, and there in the middle of the hall was three soldiers. Low level grunts from the looks of their uniforms, and not even one medal amongst them. Lotor slid to a halt at the sight of Allura in the hands of one, that Drule holding her arms pinned behind her back as another lifted her legs upwards. He already had his pants open, erection revealed and was struggling to get into place between Allura’s thighs. She wasn’t making it easy for him, struggling wildly, getting a leg free to kick out a threat.

“Damn but she’s a wild cat!” One of the soldiers exclaimed in Drule. One of them laughed, but the one trying to press between her legs was visible annoyed by the fight in Allura.

“She needs to be tamed.” He was saying, a thing Lotor privately agreed with. “Needs to learn that kittens can lose their claws!”

The third Drule had the remains of Allura’s panties in his hands, the cloth up to his face so he could inhale it’s scent. “Just hurry up already Petro! I want my turn!”

“Why wait?” asked the one who was holding Allura’s arms. “She’s got more than one hole, we should use them all. Really break this hellion in before handing her over to lost and found.”

“Now that’s an idea I can get on board with!” laughed the one with Allura’s panties, seeming not to realize his doom was at hand. For Lotor was approaching, his expression absolutely livid, his eyes murderous. Without even thinking about it, Lotor had drawn his sword, the hum of lazon filling the hall. The sound was almost drowned out by Allura’s screams, the man named Petro too intent on trying to guide his cock into the girl to pay attention to the angry prince approaching.

Allura was screaming, and it wasn’t just a helpless keen, she was cursing the Drules, calling them all kinds of names and swearing she would make them pay for their defilement of her body. Later, when Lotor wasn’t so angry, he’d have time to be impressed that she could make threats in this kind of situation. But for now he was carefully swinging his sword, the lazon blade biting into the neck of the Drule that held Allura.

The head fell forward, past Allura, who shrieked in surprised horror at the sight of it. Immediately the body fell backwards, taking Allura with it, the girl being pulled away from the one trying to rape her. Petro was standing there stupidly, cock in hand, as he stared. First at the body, and then upwards at his friend’s murderer.

“Prince Lotor!” He managed to get out, and then Lotor was thrusting his sword into the Drule’s chest. It went in to the hilt, Lotor listening to the squelching sounds as he viciously yanked his sword free. Blade coated in blood, gore, and bits of bone, he turned to the one with Allura’s panties. The Drule was frozen in place, staring with a stupid look on his fact.

“Why?” He finally asked, and that got through to Lotor on some level.

“You should know I don’t share my women with vermin!” sneered Lotor, and began to stab his sword forward. The remaining Drule managed to say something just as the sword went into him, an exclamation that would not save his life.

“She wasn’t wearing your mark….she bore no collar….we thought…” He died before Lotor could find out just what they had thought, though he could guess. Allura wasn’t dressed like a pleasure slave, wearing the drab brown tunic of a regular worker. They would have never dreamt she had more value to her than that, assuming she was anyone’s prey. It was a dangerous status to hold, and that wasn’t taking into account how beautiful a slave Allura was.

There were others in the hall, they had stopped to stare when Lotor began killing. They surely hadn’t understood at first why he was coming to a slave’s rescue, it was abnormal behavior for their prince. Lotor seethed, knowing this whole situation was insane, Allura making him think and act in ways that weren’t normal for him. He didn’t like that one bit, nor did he like the way his first thought upon looking at the girl on the floor, was the urge to comfort her.

Instead he wiped off the gore on his sword on the shirt of one of the dead soldiers. “Get up.” He coldly told Allura, sheathing his sword. She had her mouth open, and was staring at him shocked. For an instant he had this wild fantasy that she was going to get up and throw herself into his arms for comfort, but then Allura blinked. And with that action, hate filled her eyes, the girl snapping at him.

“Monster! Turning on your own people!” It was the last thing he had been expecting, Lotor’s jaw almost dropping as he stared at her shocked. “But I suppose it’s to be expected. You’re all uncivilized savages! Ruthless and without mercy, without any kindness or compassion!”

“Watch your mouth slave!” Lotor snapped, and bent enough to grab her by the arm. He hauled her up right, her tunic falling down to cover her once more.

“I suppose I should be glad.” Allura continued. “It’s three less monsters in the galaxy!”

“You should be grateful!” Lotor roared at her. “I saved you from rape at their hands!”

“Grateful is the last thing I feel!” Allura cried out.

“Then maybe next time I won’t interfere!” He had the satisfaction of seeing her pale at those words, Allura going still in his hold.

“Wh…what do you mean next time?” Allura asked in a shaky voice.

“You don’t realize what a foolish thing it was that you did…running off like that without my collar on you.” He was taking pleasure in telling her this, watching her blanch. “You left yourself open to attack, unmarked you are fair game to anyone who comes along. And Allura? With a face as pretty as yours, you can bet there is many takers who would want to sample your body.”

He flashed a cruel smile at her, and began dragging her down the hall. The Drules that had lingered quickly looked away, pretending as though they hadn’t seen the exchange between prince and slave. He knew they could write off the killings as their prince protecting his property, though they wouldn’t understand why he had allowed Allura to talk that way to him. At the very least she should have been slapped for her impertinence!

“There’s a reason why I wanted to collar you.” Lotor continued. “Normally slaves are for everyone’s use. Just walking the halls as you did, leaves you open to other Drules interest.” He felt the tremble in her, arm shaking in his grip. “There’s not normally an exception to this, except in the case of the royal families’ slaves. It’s forbidden to touch those slaves without expressed permission…”

“And this collar, will keep me safe from further molestation?” Allura surmised, and Lotor nodded. Silence followed for several minutes, leaving Lotor to wonder what Allura was thinking. “I don’t want it.” She finally said, and Lotor almost whirled around, shocked anew. “I don’t want anything from you, I don’t want to bear your mark. And you know why? Because I am not a slave, you are not my master!”

“I most certainly am!” Lotor roared at her. “You may not accept it, not now. But the day will come when you will acknowledge me as master, and do it with a smile on your face.”

“That day will never come!” Allura swore, trying to pull her arm free of his grip. “I’ll die first!”

“I’m sure you’ll wish for death many times over.” Lotor retorted, resuming dragging her through the ship. “But Allura, it won’t be granted. You’re going to live a long life, serving underneath me.”

“You should have killed me.” She grumbled. “I’m a wasted investment.”

“Let me be the judge of that.” He had reached a room, the door swishing open after he pressed his thumb into the DNA encoded lock. He swung his arm forward, releasing Allura at the last second so that she fell to the floor. “Jorgis…” He tried not to bellow the collar maker’s name, the man looking up from the slave he was currently fitting a collar around. “Get her measurements when you’re done with him.”

“Yes, sire.” Jorgis said, and resumed welding the collar shut around the man’s neck. It would seal seamlessly, to remain on the man’s neck for forever unless of course the slave somehow won his freedom from the Drules.

Allura got up, rubbing her arm where Lotor had gripped her. She seemed to flinch as she watched Jorgis with the slave, the burly man chained down to a table in such a way that he couldn’t really move. It was a matter of protection, for no one wanted the welding torch to slip off the collar’s metal. It would be a waste of a good slave if an accident was to occur.

Lotor wandered over to the selection of collars Jorgis had on display, remembering his promise to pick out a pretty one for Allura. Of course any of the collars would have to be modified, to make room for Lotor’s emblem. That emblem would be placed in the center of the collar, positioned on the front of Allura’s throat.

“Here.” Lotor said to Allura, holding out a silver collar with a sapphire rim. She seemed distracted by the collaring process, not noticing until Lotor held the collar up by her neck. He smiled, nodding in approval. “The sapphire will bring out the color of your eyes.”

“It might as well be rust for all I care!” She hissed in defiance.

“You’re a prince’s property now.” Lotor reminded her. “As such you must look the part.”

“All done.” Jorgis announced, welding torch replaced by a length of chain. He attached that chain to the ring on the collar, the other end being secured to link on the wall. It was there that the slave would remain, until his master came to pick him up. “Bring her over here..”

“No…!” Allura quickly protested, fighting when Lotor grabbed her arm. It made little difference, she was forced down onto the table, metal cuffs snapping in place around her wrists and ankles. Numerous chains held her down, and her head was placed in a metal frame to hold it steady too.

“Let me see it…” Jorgis said, and whistled in appreciation at the collar Lotor showed up. “Nice one. Not often used. I’ll have to modify it to add your emblem to it, but it shouldn’t take more than an hour to get it ready and on your slave.”

“If you can have it done in less than an hour, there’s a bonus in it for you.” Lotor told him, and Jorgis smiled.

“I’ll try my best.” He said, then tsked. “But really, you can’t rush perfection.” Lotor just chuckled at that, watching a moment as Jorgis took measuring tape, and wound it around Allura’s neck. The measurements had to be precise, so as not to make the collar too loose. Nor could they allow it to be too tight, a slave choking to death from the metal band around their neck.

“There’s some things I need to see too.” Lotor told Jorgis.

“It’s fine.” Jorgis said, waving him off in an absentminded way. “She won’t be going anywhere until I’m done.” Lotor nodded, casting one last look at the angry Allura. Her eyes were narrowed, hateful anger in the blue. She seemed to sneer when she realized Lotor was looking at her, but other than that she didn’t react. A smirk was flashed her way, Lotor knowing the collaring process was just step one towards making her accept her new reality as his slave.

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