It’s all boiled over. Every last seething resentment, and open hostility, all channeled into a hot throbbing focal point that is awash with sensation. It is both my anger, and it is my lust, that burning desire that has been steadily building over the past decade, strengthened with a bitterness that is in direct proportion to the unrelenting lack of satisfaction and resolution that I have received. It all kicks back inside me, some deep seated need that snaps apart my rigid control, and leaves me surging out of my own skin to avoid it.
I don’t so much feel as hear the dig of my nails tearing into the plush fabric of the chair, that sound so loud and stark a reminder of the effect that Allura has over me. She knows it too, a look over taking those beautiful blue eyes. It’s a kind of gloating awareness that the woman then shows me, a smugness that goes hand in hand with the power that Allura thinks she still claims over me. I burn furious in response, each pumping pull of those now confidant fingers, bringing to life one volatile need after the other, so many wicked and wild and angry urges inside me. It’s no wonder that I erupt, that I come flying up out of my seat, all domineering motion that sets a startled Allura on her back.
It’s not enough. It will NEVER be enough, that expressed fright and worry only inciting me to do worse. To be the insatiable beast that Allura has always feared me to be. To be the monster, so vindictive and cruel, getting off on her pleasure, her pain, and everything that falls in between. I’ll hold nothing back, push us BOTH to our limits and then some, until the very last of her pride and resistance breaks apart completely. It’s so thorough an owning that I want to do, that nothing less than her soul will appease me.
She’s already halfway there, bits and pieces of that soul bartered away for her planet. For an unappreciative people, so many of Arus already turned against her. Blaming Allura for her many mistakes, for her inability to be the kind of self sacrificing ruler that they had truly needed. It’s all been too little, too late, this one time Queen knocked off of her pedestal, and even at her lowest, my heart still hurts for what she has cost us both.
That pain can’t seep past the anger and the wild lust of the moment, my grin a rabid, feral thing as I settle my weight firmly on her. She goes tense between my taut thighs, staring up at me with a wide eyed look of incomprehension. It is then that I realize I’ve spoken out loud, that I’ve taunted her with the knowledge that this is but the first of a long list of payments that she will be making. I laugh then, elated, watching the dawning realization and the horror that comes with it.
“First!?” She squeaks out. “The first in HOW many!?”
“In as many as it takes for me to FINALLY be satisfied.” I’m moving as I say this, shifting my body so that my dick is thrust between the softest of cushions, those firm and magnificent breasts of hers. They feel good wrapped around me, pushed together as they are by my hands. I can’t resist giving a squeeze of my fingers, enjoying the malleable sensation of that sculpted perfection and the friction we generate together.
“That is not what I was agreeing to!”
“Oh? Then what WERE you thinking this was?” I demand, my tone a thready gasp of sound that can’t hide how much I am reveling in both the feel of Allura’s flesh, and that of her discomfort.
“A…” There’s a blush spreading across the canvas of her skin, a heated pink that starts in her cheeks, and extends itself downwards to color Allura’s throat. That color only turns darker with her words, and the laugh that follows. “A night….”
“Don’t be absurd.” I lean over her, still working my hips for all they are worth. There’s that delicious friction, and the intoxicating feel that accompanies the heady rush of power that I now flaunt over her. “With the amount of problems that Arus has? With the money, time, and effort needed to fix them? It’s not something that any one person can work off in a single night…maybe not even in a single lifetime.”
There’s the gratifying sound of her gasp, and the less satisfying look of a frozen disbelief. It doesn’t matter that she has a right to her upset and to her fright, the sight of it still makes me blaze angrier. It still can’t kill my desire, my lust spiking stronger in direct proportion to the woman’s distress. It’s all gone so twisted inside me, the lines between pleasure and pain blurring, what is good and what is bad, mixing together with my happiness and my grief. The what if of the should have been given over to the reality of what it is now, and it’s so wrong that it feels right, my anger such that is content to have Allura in whatever way that I can get.
Even like this, with that sheen of unbridled wetness glistening bright in that beautiful but tormented gaze. Those eyes that are colored the same shade of blue as that of a sky in the midst of Arus’ summertime brilliance. Pretty a sight as it is, it hurts to look upon it directly, to see the strong emotion that is the heart of Allura staring back at me. There is love there, so pure and determined, and so thoroughly devoted to that planet. To that world and it’s people, that feeling there something I’ve never been able to come close enough to touch. I’ve never been able to even try, Allura so single minded in her devotion to Arus, that even now she chooses it above all else. Even her pride, and it makes me SO angry, the thought that she hadn’t chosen me. That she has NEVER chosen me, not then and not now, Allura here in my arms, but only because Arus has had no other chance. No other options, the planet in pieces, falling to worse ruin by the hour.
I had sit back and let it, hating that place and it’s people. Hating the love that Allura has held for them, that feeling that distorts everything between us. Most despised of all? That even that love of hers, hadn’t been enough. That she had still managed, for all her self sacrificing nature, to still be so inherently selfish as to reject what would have been best for the planet. Best for Arus, and best for her, Allura once deserving to be the Queen of my Empire. As my love and as my wife, she would have had it all, Arus safe and secure, the galaxy and it’s many riches laid at it’s feet. Instead she had turned up her nose at the opportunity presented, that haughty dismissal spoken with the cruelest of words imagined. The truth as she had felt it, Allura telling me exactly what she thought of me and my affection for her.
No blow could have been more crushing than the revealed depth of her loathing. The blatant disgust and that deep abiding fear of all things Drule. Even a half breed like me, the Prince who had become King of a whole empire of monsters. To Allura, it hadn’t mattered the good that we could have done together, the change we could have ushered in to Doom and to the galaxy. She simply hadn’t been able to look past my blood, or that of my misdeeds, the many wrongs I had helped commit under my father’s rule.
We hadn’t been given a chance. I hadn’t been given a chance, the many amends I could have made, the forgiveness I could have sought, abandoned by my hand the way thar Allura had my heart. I had left all semblance of that good man, his heart and his hopes at her feet, and set out instead to become the monster she had believed me to be. A tyrant that would have made my father proud, had he been allowed to live long enough to see.
I’ve become something more, something worse than Zarkon had ever been. I’m a man scorned, Allura’s nightmare made flesh, every last horrid belief of hers now made real. I’m all cruel calculation, and depraved intent, more than ten years worth of desire grounding the heartbreak that she has forced me to endure. I’ve been a man deprived, made cold in the absence of the warmth of that light. It’s all bitterness and disappointment inside me, and that zealous ambition, Allura needing to suffer. To not only pay for her sins, but be made to regret just what she had destroyed in the process.
The few shattered pieces of my heart that remain seem to thrill to the thought. To the idea of all that I would do to her. It’s a greedy, grasping organ that pumps blood through my body, that makes me dick this stabbing warmth between her breasts. Such is my excitement that a steady trail of preejaculate dribbles across that silk smooth skin, my desire such that I won’t last long in this. I won’t even try, needing that edge of my lust taken off, so that I might better focus on the sexual devastation of this woman.
Maintaining my grip, I keep Allura pinned in place, my body pumping furiously between her breasts. She can only stare, still caught up in her shock, in that disbelief over the deal she had so badly brokered. There’s not a word to be spoken, not a thing that can be said in the moment, both our fates irrevocably sealed. I slip and slide over that trembling flesh, and then with a shout, I erupt in truth.
It’s not just a climax of the body, it’s a climax of my SOUL, my voice bellowing out of me in a satisfied roar. I make a sticky mess of her, semen spread all over Allura’s breasts and her collar, even a small dab of it reaching as far as to streak across her chin. I half fall over her, the sweep of my hair falling like a white curtain around us, the panting sounds of my aftermath filling the room as I stare down into blue eyes that are disturbed. She is trying so hard not to cry, just as I struggle with remaining cool and indifferent to the sight, biting back the words of comfort I might have once given.
She’s no right to do this, no right to make me regret or feel sorry for the way that I have treated her. The realization comes on the wave of my returning anger, no time for an afterglow, or basking of any kind. Not when the night is only just getting started, each second infinitely precious and not to be wasted.
“Clean yourself up and come to bed.” I order as I rise up on unsteady legs. I drop the silk robe that I had been wearing, Allura actively flinching when it hits against her chest. She doesn’t immediately move, too caught up in whatever private thoughts are currently running rampant in her head.
“Quickly now.” I hiss in warning. “You do not want to keep me waiting.”
That last spurs her into action. It is both funny and sad how quickly she sits up, Allura grabbing hold of the robe yet still hesitating.
“This must have been very expensive…” She murmurs, looking down at the black silk held by her hands.
“Cost enough to outfit an entire legion of soldiers.” I carelessly shrug. “It doesn’t matter. I’ve even MORE like it.”
“More….” That wistful tone speaks volumes, as does her hesitation. I roll my eyes, and step past her.
“Use it or don’t, but do not keep me waiting any longer.”
My bare feet stomp with all the force that I can muster, the plush padding of the carpeted floor unable to completely silence that angry sound. I’m made all the more volatile, my mood WORST now that I’ve been brought to orgasm. It’s because of the feelings that Allura stirs inside me, that festering wound picked open by memories of the past and all of it’s abandoned hope and promise.
It’s a flood gate of emotion that has been cast open, the good and the bad brought to the forefront of my thoughts. It keeps me from fully gloating, too caught up in the smoldering mess of reawakened memories and their pain. It wasn’t supposed to be this way, Allura wasn’t supposed to have such an effect on me. Such power, this night meant to be the first nail in the coffin of my obsession over her. Instead I am the one affected, feeling as raw and wounded as the first time my heart had been broken by her.
That pain is a stark reminder, Allura a power I need to break free of. She can have my lust and my malice, but never that of my heart or any rare moments of true kindness. She has no right to it, to anything that is left of my heart, or of the man I had once tried to be, that Lotor long dead and buried. The monster is all that should be left, that voracious hunger and need that of which so many women have tried and failed to satisfy and appease.
It’s only fitting that the turn now falls to Allura. To the woman I would have once worshiped, and idolized as the sole center of my universe. Instead she’s just the latest notch on a post of a bed that has seen far too much action. Even that is colored by her choice, the many women I’ve paraded about these very chambers, all a mean to an end. An end meant to let go, Allura this unshakable phantom that I have let haunt me all these years.
Powerful has been her grip, Allura the one and only woman to have ever left such an impact on me. I have TRIED, woman after woman turned to in an attempt to forget. To break free of that pretty Arusian’s influence, yet not a single one in the bevy of beauties that have come a calling, have had what it takes. Not the slaves, and not the nobles, not the ones who have begged for my time, all that lush loveliness cultivated and culled from every corner of the Denubian Galaxy. The cream of the crop offered, women from all walks of life throwing themselves at me, for all their tears and hysterics, all their seductive calculation, it’s not a single one that I can remember. Not their faces, and certainly not their names, each one lost to the memory of the one and only woman that I have ever loved.
It’s that love that makes her stand out, that has made Allura so special. She had been my everything once, all my hopes and my dreams, the future and the fantasies that I had hoped to make real. I had worshiped and revered her, that gentle patience and understanding something that would have never allowed for the mistreatment that I’ve shown her this night. The hunger and the cruelty, the love twisted, given over to the depraved depths of my unwavering lust. Gone are the precious beliefs, that steadfast idea that given enough time and care, love would ultimately prevail. It leaves vanquished everything but the man who knows better now. Who won’t let such soft feelings get in the way, things determined to go at my own brutal pace.
Nothing is sacred, and Allura has a right to cry. For I am a Lotor who won’t hold back, who won’t give an ounce of care and consideration, or any of the other things I had once thought her deserving. She’ll get no hand holding from me, no gentle easing into the acts that are to happen. Tonight is all about me, my needs, and my satisfaction, the full unleashing of ten years of pent up frustration and disappointments brought to bear against Allura.
To that end I am impatient, every second of her delay, a moment wasted. I’m practically crawling out of my skin, so tired of these games and the wait that goes with them. That wait that has stretched on for over ten years, Allura avoiding my bed for so long. But no longer, my voice a sharp snarl as I call out a reminder
“I don’t like to be kept waiting, Allura.”
She’s still crouched on the floor, still clutching the now soiled night robe to her. The sharp recrimination of my voice, finally, slowly, spur her into action, Allura rising up off the carpet. She doesn’t immediately turn towards me, as though she is gathering what little strength she has left. I tap a foot in response, my expression all a glower as I wait for her to turn and walk that few feet to me. It’s beyond my capability to feign indifference when she finally does, that anticipation making me sit up taller, the gold of my eyes all a smolder with the wickedest of intent. Allura nearly buckles in response, that weighted look that I give her, enough to unravel even the bravest and most determined of hearts.
My smile is a grim parody of any happiness that I might have feigned, my arm extending its hand towards her. She hesitates, staring at that proffered palm, and then, slowly, touches trembling fingers to it. I immediately close a fist around them, hauling Allura off balance so that she falls the rest of the way onto the bed. As the softest of soft cushions her fall, I note how those eyes slide shut in resignation. I wonder then at the thoughts that must be going through her head, the realization that she is finally here, in the bed she has done her utmost to avoid. It’s all been a futile endeavor, the wicked delight that I feel erupting into a soft chuckle of sound. It snaps her eyes open, the look that Allura gives me both wounded and angry.
It doesn’t kill my perverse pleasure, or the gloating satisfaction and triumph, my gaze insolent as it lingers on her body. On the breasts that I have so fiercely humped, where the lightest of bruised imprints mark where my squeezing fingers had lingered, to that stiff bit of flesh that makes up the rose colored tips of her breasts. It’s not yet arousal, anxiety the real culprit responsible for her nipples hardened state. I touch fingers to her, just the pads of my thumbs tip, and yet a jolt goes through us both. That sharp burst of electricity, Allura’s back arching in response, and I lose control. I fall on her with all the unleashed lust of a ravenous Drule, my hands sliding and cupping, smoothing over skin, curving around contours. I learn the shape and feel of her, from the pleasantly soft textures, to the tremulous quiver that make her firm breasts jiggle.
She’s so thoroughly pinned in place by my attention, by the hands that work to strip her of all resistance. That cup and stroke, actively paint sensation into her very flesh with those teasing caresses. It makes her shiver in response, pearl white teeth biting at a plump bottom lip in an effort to suppress the sounds that Allura WANTS to make.
I watch every second of her struggle, nothing slipping by me. Not the tremble of her arms, fingers curling deep into the bed’s blanket, or the stiff way that she holds herself, fighting against pleasure’s instinct in an effort to stop the complete capitulation of her body. It’s a losing battle that she wages, my clever and experienced hands working a surrender out of her, long before I put my lips to her shoulder. I bite at that delicate skin, Allura gasping out a moan, that breathy exclamation one of the sweetest of sounds that I have ever heard. Sweeter yet is her taste, her skin that perfect mix of sweat and soap, Allura tasting faintly of a strawberries and cream flavored body wash.
It’s a taste to be savored, Allura’s flavor once one of the great unknowns of my life. I lave my tongue at her skin, trying for more, kisses peppered over the top most part of the fat globes of her breasts. There’s not an inch of her that I don’t want to sample, to feast off of and get high on just the taste of, my lips brushing over a nipple. With it comes my breath and the hot moisture of my mouth, tongue and teeth tormenting her. It’s a heady mix, Allura letting out mewling gasps of sounds, the tiniest of protests that I pay little heed to. Not even that of her hands sudden push at me, the woman trying to dislodge me, can get me to stop, a sharp snarl of warning escaping me, that sound vibrating against that stiff bit of flesh.
It’s all so arousing, that sweet, intoxicating response. That and the power that I command over her, Allura melting bit by bit and despising us both for it. It doesn’t stop the yielding of her body, that hot eager response, my fingers coming away damp for their questing. There’s no amount of fear that can account for that, her body ripe and eager for the taking. Oh she tries to pretend otherwise, and makes a valiant attempt to keep from splaying her thighs wide open, but we both know better. She’s like a powder keg of sensation, ready to go off at the slightest bit of encouragement. I’m not much better off, my rigid control all but gone, the tingly throb of excited sensation that I feel, marking my recovery as fast even for a Drule. It’s because of her, because of Allura, my body is this way. I’m like a shark scenting blood, that wild, uncontrollable lust driving me mad for this woman, and this woman alone.
With a growl, I abandon my play at things, grasping hold of Allura by the wrist so that I might place her hand on my dick. There’s a gasp and a wide eyed look, Allura speaking.
“Again!?” She exclaims, beyond shocked. “So soon!?”
I give her a tight smile in response, flashing fang in the process. “You’ll find I am nothing like those pathetic human lovers that you’ve had in the past.”
Her cheeks burn crimson at that taunt, Allura trying to jerk her hand free of me. It’s an inadvertent stroke of my flesh that she does, Allura wide eyed and gasping, stammering out an uncertain sound. I make a sound not meant to be soothing, all wild eyed and demanding, hands pushing apart her knees, so that I might fit myself between her thighs.
There’s the hot sensation of her burning warmth to greet me, that and the wetness, Allura so thoroughly aroused as to be soaked. I let out an eager hiss, rub myself fully against that damp flesh, the lips of her sex eager to spread and envelope around me.
Allura starts to speak, some garbled nonsense about waiting that ends in a wild gasp, my body turning near vicious at the thought of yet another of her attempts at rejection. I sink myself inside her to the hilt in one solid thrust, and even at her wettest, it has to be discomforting, Allura looking wide eyed and shocked.
My eyes are no better, the shock that I feel born of the fact that Allura fits me like a glove, all snug and perfectly form fitted, and ever so pleasurable. The feel of her around me is better than I have ever dared imagined, Allura this realm of something so infinitely exquisite as to be maddening. She’s a Goddess made real, her body this slice of sublime that can only be a testament to just how much I have felt for her. The good and the bad, and every twisted in between, and I hate her for denying me this for so long.
It’s more than a sensation borne of lust, it’s the connection that I have been missing, the broken remains of my heart so thoroughly fixated on the woman around me. I fall into the embrace of her body with a wild abandonment, hips already so fast and so furious and ever so frantic, every solid inch of me fighting to move against the tight constricting of Allura’s rippling flesh. There’s a desperation to her sounds, and that of her own wild surrender, Allura having given herself over to the climax with a writhing roll of her body.
I am no better, so wild and out of control, pounding into her with a desperate shout of my own. That wet coil of flesh around me, that intoxicating warmth, and that impassioned sound, I’m drunk of it, drunk off of her, helpless and lost, and ever so angry. It’s not supposed to be this way, I’m not the one meant to know a pleasure this intense and profound, Allura this special kind of something that I will never again find.