Regret 02

I hadn’t been able to hold back my tears, the gut wrenching sobs making my whole body shudder. I cannot even say it was relief that moved me to such extremes, nor that of the knowledge that Arus would finally be saved. My people would live, their world ready to be rebuilt and prosper. It is sorrow plain and pure that moved me then. A lifetime of sorrow, of regrets, and what should have been.

It has been a tough ten years. Arus, never a particular thriving planet, has sunk so low as to be worthless. We can’t even grow enough food to feed ourselves, not with the wars tearing apart the land. It is not just outside influence we have to fear, my own people have turned against each other. We’ve all become sad, desperate people. Ready to steal, to murder. Even to sell ourselves to the highest bidder.

But Arus holds little interest to other worlds. Why should they trouble themselves, why should they barter or purchase that which they can simple take? With no Voltron to protect us, we are easy pickings for any who come along.

The galaxy itself has changed these last ten years. The Galaxy Alliance has disbanded, and Garrison no longer trains soldiers. It’s every world for itself, and many clamor eagerly to become part of the Doom Empire. What was once a fate more horrible than any to contemplate, is now a fate that is embraced eagerly. The Empire takes care of it’s own, it’s planets prospering. So what if some people are made slaves? It is better than dying, or living in poverty.

I have made Arus a mockery, an example of what happens to worlds that resist the Empire. Barely surviving, we’ve struggled for the better part of the decade, getting by only on the Empire’s generosity. A generosity that has come to an end, the Empire pulling back it’s aid. I’ve been left with no choice, months of petitioning, and trying to get in contact with the Empire’s King, failing.

I knew Lotor was purposefully ignoring me, but it doesn’t lessen my hurt. Doesn’t soften the blow of his disinterest. It makes me want to start crying all over again, the wounds fresher now then they had been hours ago. And all because Lotor doesn’t care. Hasn’t for a long time now.

He’s changed from the Lotor I once knew. The Lotor who had loved me. The Lotor who would have done anything to please me. I know I am at fault for his coldness, know that my complete rejection of him has led us to this point. I feel regret, but cannot change the past. Nor had I fully understood how much he had once loved me, until he went away. Until he agreed to leave me and Arus alone, rather than conquer my kingdom and force me to be his bride.

It was roughly ten years ago that I broke his heart so completely. Ten years ago that I refused him, making it clear I would rather die than be his. I had been so angry, so self righteous. Ready to throw my life away. In some ways I had, and Arus was the one to suffer for my unrelenting stubbornness.

There was no triumph in refusing him, no long lasting victory to savor. When I rejected the newly crowned King of the Doom Empire, he had made a complete withdrawal from Arus. We hadn’t had time to celebrate. We had to work to try and recover from the war that had lasted for nearly twenty-one years. But recovering from all Doom had done required money, and Arus had little to offer in return for another world’s investments. It’s why we eventually gave up Voltron to the Empire, desperate for the financial support Doom promised us.

Giving up Voltron had left us vulnerable to other worlds. Even to those that had once allied with us. The Empire made a show of keeping them at bay, but Lotor once more withdrew support from my world. Voltron had bought us time, but not enough of it. Or the money we so desperately needed.

My kingdom wass in shambles, poverty all around me. People dying by the hour. I had no choice but to come to Doom. No choice but to try and meet with it’s King. A part of me had feared that Lotor would turn me away. That he would reject me so completely. He hasn’t, but the help I have obtained has come at a steep cost to me. I am being stripped of my power, my title and status. Arus will no longer be mine to rule. For good or for bad, it is now in the care of Lotor’s hands.

My people will be saved. Peace and prosperity will grace Arus’ lands at long last. But there is no peace in my heart, no end to my own anguish. The true suffering is just beginning, my humiliation at hand. I have fallen so low, I can’t even begin to protest the things Lotor has demanded of me. But then, I always knew there was a chance of this happening. A chance that some part of him would still want me. He may not love me, but he still desires a taste of my body. I can only pray that taste will be enough to satisfy him.

No soldiers come to escort me to his private chambers. It is a test of my resolve, Lotor wanting to see if I am that desperate, that true to my word. I could easily refuse him, but then Arus would pay the price. With one word I could damn my planet, but avoid suffering humiliation at his hands. It’s a humiliation I’ve long avoided, a humiliation I had thought to escape by rejecting him a decade ago. It seems an inevitable fate now, my love for Arus, leaving me with little option but to grovel before him. To give Lotor whatever he wants, in order to ensure my people’s survival.

The long walk to Lotor’s bedroom is an excruciating journey. I feel eyes on me, gleaming with cold amusement. Whispers follow in my wake, people laughing at the thought of my finally falling from grace. I pretend not to hear them, keeping my head held high. Keeping the tears at bay by digging my nails into my palms. I do not hurry, nor do I delay, trying to keep a mask of indifference to what will happen.

And yet I feel as though I am suffocating, my breath coming out faster, harsher by the time I am in front of Lotor’s door. It is a struggle to get my breathing under control, my hand shaking as I knock softly on his door. A voice calls out, the door opening. Admitting me to the inner chamber that stands situated before his bedroom. The room itself is empty, but signs of his presence are everywhere.

I almost jump out of my skin when the door slides shut behind me. But no lock is engaged. I can still leave, still turn my back on everything. But I boldly step forward, going deeper into the wolf’s den. There is an array of bottles on a table, all expensive brands of various liquors. I drift nearer, though I don’t try to pour myself a drink. I haven’t been invited to, and don’t know what protocol to follow. I don’t even know if I should remain dressed, or if he expects me to strip and ready myself for his possession.

I am already trembling. Lotor still does not show himself, leaving me to fidget as I stand. I haven’t even tried to take a seat, not sure what to do. How long I will have to wait. And he does keep me waiting, a game designed to heighten my agitation. I take to pacing the length of the room, eyes drifting over the paintings on the walls. Studying them, but not recognizing the worlds they depict.

When the door to the bedroom opens, I nearly leap in fright. My eyes instantly meet Lotor’s cold gaze, the King striding out of the bedroom. He makes no excuses for the wait, striding towards me. I ready myself, eyes taking in his imposing figure. Seeing how he wears a loosely belted robe that falls open enough to reveal his bare chest. From what I can see, he is as muscled as ever, chiseled perfection in a cold, cruel form.

He nears, and somehow I manage not to back up. But I can’t hide my trembles, or how I stiffen at his approach. Shock goes through me when he passes by with no attempt to touch me. I stand speechless, then turn to track his movements. He has gone to the table, pouring himself a drink. He offers none to me, his eyes staring in an unsettling manner at me.

There is no heat in his gaze, no friendly warmth, or burning desire. He observes me as if I am little interest to him, as though I am a misplaced curiosity he doesn’t care to remove. He is toying with me, like a cruel cat with a wounded mouse, holding no emotions for his prey.

“I….” My hesitant voice breaks the silence between us. “I wanted to thank you again, your highness.” An eyebrow lifts, Lotor lowering himself onto a chair. “For agreeing to help Arus. It means a lot to me….more than you can perhaps realize.”

A long pause between us, Lotor continuing to drink. I don’t know what to do, what to say. “I think we are both aware of how much you value Arus.”

Indeed we were, even though I had made stupid, foolish choices where Arus was concerned. Choices that helped guide the planet’s downfall, choices that was nearly the ruin of my people. I can’t help but flash back to that time ten years ago, when Lotor had all but begged me for my hand. And the crushing disappointment I had dealt out to him. I realize now so much could have been different. If I had only abandoned my pride and agreed to be his. Now I will have nothing, my own downfall engineered by my own foolish hands.

“I have always lived for Arus.” I say out loud. “Always dedicated myself to the planet and it’s people.”

“Somehow I think you will continue to dedicate yourself to the people, even stripped of your title.” Lotor tells me.

I nod though I feel as though he had slapped me with that comment. “Yes, of course.” I say. “There is nothing I want more than Arus to prosper, for my people to be happy.” Uncertainty fills me. “You will see to that, won’t you?”

“The ink has barely had time to dry on the paperwork, and already you doubt me.” The faintest hint of a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. “You wound me Allura.”

“I didn’t mean to, your highness.” I quickly apologize. “I just…just needed to be reassured. To be told all I have done hasn’t been a vain sacrifice.”

“There are no reassurances in life. You of all people should know that by now.” He finishes his drink, setting the glass down. “Now…you know why you are here?” Cautiously I nod, seeing that self satisfied smirk slowly appear. “Then there’s no need to waste either one of our breaths with any further attempts at talk.” A lift of his eyebrow. “Or do you think to delay what will happen?”

“That was not my intention!” I protest, but my stomach is twisting into knots. “I just….” I silence myself. How can I tell him I had wanted to make this seem less than it was. To take away the feel of this being just one more business transaction to him. I know I am no longer special to Lotor, but couldn’t he allow me to retain some illusion of that? To allow me the luxury of pretending this was something other than my whoring myself out for my people? Something more meaningful than what it really was?

Thankfully Lotor doesn’t ask me to finish that thought out loud. He merely leaned back in his chair, idly gesturing me to come closer with his fingers. My mouth instantly goes dry, but I obey. As much as I don’t want to do this, I also don’t have a choice in the matter. Arus must be saved. I will do anything to ensure Lotor aids and protects my people.

He has me stop just short of him. It seems he is not ready to touch me. Instead he speaks, that too cruel smirk on his face. “Take off your clothes.” Something inside me flinches, my eyes closing in resignation. It seems a million times more humiliating to have to undress myself. To stand there stripped in front of him, Lotor’s eyes showing nothing more than cold amusement. I have no choice, to refuse now would be to condemn Arus to further troubles. And so my shaking fingers begin to unbutton the back of my dress.

He stares at me with no discernible reaction. Watching my face which is turning red in humiliation. I desperately want a drink, as though it could numb me to this indignity. The dress loosen, and I roll my shoulders to shrug out of it. It slides down my body, and reveals my all too plain underwear. I suppose I shouldn’t have even bothered to wear anything under it, but I am not that shameless.

A gesture from him indicates my bra is to come off. My cheeks redden further, my chest growing tight. But I remove it, and my panties follow. He doesn’t allow me any modesty, won’t tolerate my hands trying to cover my body. Instead I have to stand there, hands at my sides while he inspects me at his leisure. The burning in my cheeks intensifies, Lotor’s insolent gaze roaming over my curves. It feels like an eternity must pass, before he has looked his fill.

“Still as beautiful as ever Allura.” Lotor finally praises me. “Time may not have been kind to your planet, but it has been to you.” I say nothing, Lotor lifting his gaze to my face. “Don’t you know enough to thank a King when he praises you?”

“Th…thank you.” I stammer, fighting to keep my hands from clenching into fists. He’s noticed the tremble in my arms, the way my fingers tried to curl. It makes him grin, his eyes darkening with intent.

“I want you on your knees.” He tells me, smug with the certainty I cannot deny him this. And I can’t, my body slowly moving, bringing me down to the floor. I’m only inches away from him, and yet it seems a mile I must crawl. Some part of me is already moving, even before he looks at me with cold demand. I crawl so that I end up kneeling between his spread legs, staring up at him with what surely had to be a nervous expression.

“You know what to do.” He’s not going to ease me into it, waiting almost impatiently for me to loosen his robe’s belt. To pull back the silk fabric, and reveal a part of him that is large enough to be frightening. Lotor’s cock is more than impressive, it’s size obscene. I feel real fear, wondering how my body can hope to take it. I’ve had lovers in the past, but none as equipped as the King.

I’ve been caught staring at it. Lotor’s eyes are on me, drinking in my trepidation. A shudder goes through me, and once again I close my eyes. But the reality of what is happening is not so easily vanquished. Lotor is still there, still waiting when I open them again. His cock seems to twitch for my attention, and I swallow back my protests. I cannot control the shaking in my hand, fingers trembling so badly as I reach for him.

I make a sound low in my throat, shocked to realize he hasn’t reached his full erect state. My trembling fingers curl around his shaft, and then I am stroking him. My motions are more sure than the feelings I have inside me. On some level I realize it is better to hurry this along, to get it over with all the quicker. I work to arouse him, squeezing my hand into a firm fist as I work him over. He doesn’t move with me, the rest of his body relaxed as he makes me do all the work. A spike of anger goes through me, but I have no real right to it. I made this happen by coming to Doom.

As I stroke him, I feel the veins that bulge on his shaft. He throbs with too much life and vitality, and moisture begins to bead on the tip of him. But he is nowhere near close to erupting, Lotor expecting a lot more than just my hand to give him the satisfaction he seeks. Closing my eyes, I bend over his lap, forcing myself to touch my tongue to his tip. His salty fluid is a bitter taste on my tongue, hard to stomach and even worse to swallow. But I continue to lick, hearing the first signs of his interest in the way his breathing sharpens.

My hand eases downwards, finding his balls. Fondling them, massaging the seed that is swollen inside them. I lick harder at the head of his cock, then trace a vein downwards with my tongue. I pay special attention to the underside, even going so far as to gently graze my teeth on that sensitive skin. It’s the right move. Drules like a little pain with their sex.

Lotor has yet to touch me one time. He’s not saying anything, not even letting out a moan to show if I am doing right by him. Only his breathing shows he is affected by what I am doing, my tongue continuing to lick at him, treating him like he is a creamy treat. I pay special care to the oozing head of him, swirling my tongue over the spot where his own fluid lingers. It is a daunting thought to take him inside my mouth, an act I try to put off by licking him as much as I can. Trying to bring him with just the play of my tongue. But Lotor has too much experience to give in to some simple and unsatisfying a conclusion as that. As the time ticks away, I feel his impatience. His gruff growl commands me to stop teasing, and do what I must.

I’m still hesitating as I take his cock into my mouth. Letting just the head be enveloped past my lips. An impatient thrust from him has more enter me, several inches worth tearing a startled protest from me. He doesn’t heed it, insisting I take more of him. Deeper until he is touching my throat, my jaw aching from how wide it must open to accommodate him. Tears of pain form in my eyes, Lotor’s hands suddenly in my hair. But it is no soothing touch meant to comfort me. He has no interest in my upset, wanting me to continue with seeing to his pleasure.

At his hand’s urgings, I begin to bob my head up and down. It’s either move, or have him continue to thrust into me. At least this way I can somewhat control the pace, keep myself from choking on him.

“That’s good Allura…” He tells me, keeping a tight grip on my hair. “Just like that.” A roll of my eyes has me looking up at him, and I don’t succeed in hiding my anger. My fury over being used like this. He actually laughs in response to it, Lotor telling me it’s a good look for me. I want to bite him then, but he’s too deep in me, my jaw frozen.

“Use your tongue more.” Lotor advises me. His eyes are dark, his expression heavy with arousal. I wonder how he can keep from moaning, my tongue coming into play. Brushing over the underside of his dick in an almost frantic motion. It’s becoming increasingly difficult to breathe, and I wonder if he intends to have me pass out before this game of his ends. Certainly there’s no reason for him to hold back his climax, he has nothing to prove to me with a show of stamina and restraint.

I really am crying by the time he lets out a warning growl. “I’m coming Allura. Swallow it.” It’s no question what I must do, he lets loose when he is deep inside me, shooting much down my throat. I gag on it, fearing I will be sick. A thick creamy load is poured down my throat, his taste magnified by the dozen.

His hands don’t let go of my hair until he is done coming. He held me in place, keeping me from jerking back at the moment of his climax. I had no choice but to swallow it as much of it as I could, and even then some dribble out the corner of my mouth. His eyes look at me, dark and unfathomable in the moment. “Clean yourself up.” He orders, then stands. He makes no effort to close his robe, stepping past me. I wonder if it’s over, if it really can end with just his climax. That hope is dashed when he calls out to me from over his shoulder, ordering me to come to his bedroom. The night is just beginning, and I haven’t begun to pay for Arus’ salvation.


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