In the early hours, where night has not quite turned into morning, I find myself restless. Unable to relax enough to sleep, I find my thoughts stirring. Lurching from feeling to feeling, exploring memories both of my recent and distant past. It was no surprise to me, that these thoughts and memories are focused on the woman who lay besides me. The woman who had cried herself to sleep, and even now fought demons in her dreams.
I hoped Allura dreamt of me. I hoped she was tormented by what I had done to her. By the things I would continue to do to her, all in a quest to revenge myself upon her. I can’t even smile in anticipation, still too angry. With her, and with myself. All because this night, these encounters, aren’t going exactly as I would have willed them to be. I’m barely satisfied, body sated, but my hurt and my feelings? They are not. They are still as conflicted as ever, causing me a familiar turmoil.
I hate that it is this way. Hate that I can’t exorcise the demon that is Allura from me so easily. It is neither fair or right that she can afflict me in this way, can take away the triumph I should be feeling in finally bringing Allura down to her knees. I have not enjoyed myself anywhere as much as I should, little holes in the wall I built up between us, leaving me exposed and vulnerable to Allura. To the unexpected instants, everything from the moment where she had begged for my forgiveness, to my own red hot anger at the revelation that someone had not only tried to kill Allura, but had come close enough to leave a lasting scar upon her.
I shouldn’t have cared. It shouldn’t have even been an issue, but try as I might, I cannot convince myself that the attack was unimportant. The thought of losing Allura in that way? It upsets me. It is an upset that doesn’t have all to do with the thought of my revenge against her going unfulfilled. I can’t say it is an upset born of love. That is a feeling I’ve killed off long ago. With Allura’s help no less. But regret is a whole other matter, and it’s been stirred more than once this night. I wonder if Allura has felt it too, if she regrets how things have turned out between us. The pessimist inside of me, snorts in derisive amusement at that. It feels if Allura has any regrets, it is not for what would have been between us. No, it tells me that Allura only regrets that she had finally had to lower herself and come crawling to my bed.
She has certainly cried enough in response to the reality of being bedded by me. And it is only Allura who is still capable of injuring my pride. She disdains that which many a woman has fought for the right of, not even bothering to conceal what a chore she finds being bedded by me to be. But then, I hadn’t expected her to be an enthusiastic partner. Not when the memory of her disdain, her crushing rejection of me is such a potent memory in my mind. So much time has passed since then, and yet Allura stills holds little regard for me. She wants only what my power and money can give Arus, and I can’t, won’t, delude myself into thinking she has any real feelings for me.
Nor do I hope for that to change. Not now, not in the future. Not even if I keep her for ten more years on Doom, do I dare think she will suddenly grow to love me. I tell myself that is good, that love would only complicate matters. I ignore any twinge in my broken heart that would whisper longingly for another chance at love with Allura. That time has passed, and I am a vastly different man. I’ve proven it tonight, to both Allura and to myself. All because there is no way I would have treated the woman that I loved the way I have treated Allura these last few hours.
Anger renews itself inside me, more potent than ever as I lay there and contemplate things. It is especially strong when I compare myself to the young man I once was, the prince who had believed Allura was worth cherishing. She had been everything to me, and sometimes she still is. Shattered though my conception of love is, there are pieces that remain. Pieces of the feelings I had once had for Allura. Those pieces might be what has driven me all these years, the motivating force that allowed me to make so great an Empire of Doom’s conquests. It is not for the people that I strove for greatness. Nor had I done so much in an effort to best my father’s own accomplishments. I think a part of me always knew, always waited with bated breath for the opportunity over Allura Doom’s power would give me. Certainly my love had never put me in any true position to have her, and it was only Arus’ own desperate situation that drove Allura to come to me.
Not for the first time do I wonder why Allura couldn’t have at least been wiser than she had been at eighteen. Why she couldn’t have had enough sense to figure out the kind of future Arus would eventually face. She might not have loved me, but she could have spared herself so much degradation in agreeing to marry me then. The prince I once was, would have done just about anything to keep her happy. He would have treated her like a living Goddess, groveled at her feet. The Lotor I am now, will be content to make Allura do the groveling, to make her beg and scream, and cry some more. In fact, a part of me demands it. Craves it with every fiber of my being. That part won’t be satisfied with anything less than Allura’s complete misery.
The Lotor of ten decades ago would surely be screaming in protest. But he exists as little more than a memory, and his youthful enthusiasm and deep abiding belief in love sickens the Lotor that I am today. I had been a love sick, naive fool. And that is something I won’t ever be again. Not for any woman, and certainly not for Allura. For all the regret, and any surprises she may offer me, I must harden myself further. I can’t allow any vulnerabilities on my part. Can’t allow her to get to me. To my dissatisfaction, that will be more difficult than I would have liked. Allura was still a weakness of mine, no matter how much I might try to pretend otherwise. It’s just the nature of that weakness’ effect that has changed.
I won’t fall over myself in an attempt to please her, but the obsession is still there. It more than lingers, and too late have I realized that fucking Allura has only added fuel to the fire. I resent her, anger boiling in me over how things could have, should have been. But I can’t give her up, I’m nowhere ready to. Perhaps I never will be. It’s a troubling thought, as is the one that lets me realize we’ll only hurt each other the longer we stay near to one another. But I am confidant Allura will bear the brunt of that damage, and what little hurt I take away will not matter. Nothing can compare to the hurt of her initial rejection, after all.
I am a bitter man. A man who has turned his back so completely on love. I put the blame completely on Allura, never thinking that I might shoulder a part of it as well. Perhaps even my father is to blame, for the spoiled upbringing he had allowed me. I had been one used to always getting what I wanted. Is it any surprise it hurt me so badly when Allura refused me? And yet I had persisted, chasing after her for months until the old man died. And when Zarkon was gone, I had approached her. My heart in my hand, thinking at last the healing could begin. Between us and our worlds, believing the one obstacle that kept Allura from committing to me was at last gone. How wrong I had been. How hated and feared I had realized I was in her eyes.
Sometimes I think the pain of her adamant rejection is as strong today as it was back then. It is hard to live with such miserable feelings, and often I think only my need for revenge allowed me to endure the breaking of my heart. I’ve never truly healed from that heart break, and it’s made me become someone bitter and twisted. I am now capable of cruelties Allura can’t yet imagine, and she is a fool to entrust Arus to me. I could just as easily leave that planet and it’s people to rot, but somehow there is a need to prove to her how wrong she was about me in at least in one respect. I can’t, won’t, behave myself towards her, but for her planet I will do what I promised. I will make Arus worthwhile once more. Even as I ruin Allura, bring her down lower and dirty her, Arus will prosper. I will let her see for herself what she and her planet could have had, without her needing to have degraded and humiliated herself at my hands.
Allura thinks sex has always been the coin I would demand from her. Such a fool she is, to have never understood that once it had been about love. About loving her, and hoping for the chance she would grow to love me back. Now even if she wishes for that love, it won’t happen. I refused to go down that path again, to become a fool for her once more. She’s made her bed, and it’s a pity, but that bed belongs to me. And she must do more than just lie in it. She must endure every desire I have, every twisted impulse, every demand I might make. I don’t expect service with a smile, but I damn well will not allow any disobedience from her.
Her nos have no effect on me. Nor will her pleas. She can beg all she wants, and indeed there is something satisfying to hear Allura beg so desperately. But as sweet and satisfying as that may be, it won’t change anything that happens. She will learn the difference between being loved by the ruler of Doom, and just being used by him.
Now I do smile, though the expression holds no true happiness to it. I don’t wonder if she’s capable of recognizing the difference. Allura surely remembers how I was when I was so foolishly, so hopelessly in love. How kindly I treated her, even as I pursued her relentlessly and with single minded focus. I may have done terrible things to other people in that pursuit of her, but none of that cruelty had touched Allura personally. It’s different now, I’ve set out to hurt her in my complete use of her. I’ve not been gentle, nor have I eased her into the sex. I’ve taken complete command of her body, and she hasn’t always been able to hold back her protests. Sometimes I think I feed off her reluctance, but always I’ve remained on edge. Not able to truly enjoy what is happening, so long as I am plagued by memories and riddled vulnerable by Allura’s tears.
But her tears are not enough to stop me. Not now. Let her cry. Let her rant and wail against her fate. Against a fate she is as responsible for as I am. Allura has brought us to this point just as surely as I have, and it’s only fair she ride it out to whatever end this reality is building us towards. I don’t feel any hope for our future, but then it’s been an eternity since I have. With Arus the way it is, I wonder if Allura had even had any hope for her own future or if she had known it would always come down to her submitting herself so completely to my merciless care.
With that thought, I roll over onto my side. Allura is still sleeping, but it is not a peaceful rest. She appears to tremble in her sleep, her head tossing on it’s pillow. Her hands are fists, clutching at the thin blanket that is haphazardly kicked off most of her. She looks uneasy, lips turned down in a frown. Even her breathing is ragged, panting out her in harsh little sounds.
I pause, wondering which would be the more merciful. To let Allura endure such a disturbing sleep, or rouse her to wake and serve the needs that stir within me. That hunger for her never quite goes away, and looking over her body, which is not even fully covered by the blanket, does much to bring the arousal quicker to me. Do I care that there is dried blood on her shoulder? That her thighs are bruised, and that there are teeth marks on her breasts? Not when I think how much worse I could have hurt her. Looking at her now, I think she’s gotten off lucky. That even now I retain some sense of feeling that prohibits me from being my most cruel. I have beaten, whipped others for offenses far less weighty than what Allura has done to me. A heart once broken can never truly heal. I’ve learned that the hard way. A bit of sexual degradation is a small price for Allura to pay in return for the damage she has done me.
What’s more, it’s time for another installment on that payment. I shift closer to her, and even in her troubled sleep, it’s as though Allura senses the predator drawing near. She attempts to roll away from me, but my hand stops her from going far. I actually pull her against me, my arm going across her chest. Holding her in place as I press myself against her. It doesn’t take much, just some grinding against her bottom, before my cock is standing at full erection. I actually ache to be inside her, and not even burying my face in her hair to better inhale the scent of her shampoo, distracts me from that need.
I continue to grind against her, my cock being nestled between the cheeks of her ass. It feels good, but it’s not enough, succeeding only at heightening the teasing agony of my cock. I’m almost impatient as I bring my fingers to her sex, doing a coaxing fingering of her clit. Allura’s trembles continue, her panting seeming to increase in speed as I rub insistently over the bit of flesh that is starting to get swollen with it’s own need. It is an effort to remain patient, my fingers expertly playing at arousing her. A shift from me has her one leg hooking over the bend of my arm, effectively spreading her open for my desires. My fingers continue their insistent rubbing, Allura making sounds that are more fretful than aroused. Is it the dreams that keep her from enjoying this? Or does she know it is me that touches her so? Either way her body doesn’t offer much resistance to the caress I am doing, her own juices beginning a slow but steady dampening. I’m able to easily slide my fingers into her slick sex, that aroused flesh gripping me firmly.
That tight feeling tears a muffled oath from me. I quickly shift, no longer able to wait. My fingers are replaced by the head of my cock, I haven’t even bothered to change our positions. I hold her leg up higher, fitting our bodies together with a single, forceful thrust. It’s that thrust, the strength of it, that tears a gasp from her. I can tell Allura has at last awakened, and my other arm goes across her breasts in an effort to hold her against me as I continued to have my way with her.
“Lotor!” A fretful saying of my name, it’s almost a scream. As startled as she is, Allura quickly understands what is going on and stops trying to get away. She appears resigned to what is happening, breath hissing out of her in between the whimpers she tries to muffle.
I can’t be completely unhappy when I’m buried so deep inside her, but neither am I content. I just keep thinking how good she feels, how right the fit of her around me is. And with those kind of thoughts, I am reminded that this is what she sought to deny us, to deny me. It makes me speed up my hips, my thrusting growing even rougher inside her. In that instant, I don’t care if I hurt her to the point she’ll be unable to walk, I just want to stop thinking. I want to go to that point where nothing else matters but the hot and blinding feel of my climax, my body pumping furiously. Plunging in as deep as I can go, and still feeling as if it’s not enough. I know for certain I am a sick individual when her cry of discomfort, that pained sound soothes me enough to come.
As I flood her insides with my release, I find myself breathing just as heavily as Allura. I feel exhausted, but know I cannot sleep. Not now that morning is almost here. I don’t speak a word, barely look at her as I finally pull out of her. What can be said, that could somehow make this situation better than it really is? Nothing, and we both know it, embracing the silence between us. Allura is once again muffling her voice, trying not to be too apparent that she is crying. But my ears are attuned to her every sound, listening to the mattress creak as Allura tries to shift into a more comfortable position.
I leave the bed, not even looking for a robe. I can feel Allura’s eyes on me, but it’s never an admiring look. No, she is watching me like a wary lamb would watch the lion, fearing what I may do next. It’s all I can do to keep from growling out my discontent, heading for the shower. By the time I am done bathing, she is gone. Both from my bed, and from the room. I can’t say what I would have done if Allura had remained. My control of my lusts is that bad around her.
It’s almost a relief that she’s gone for the day. Gone but not forgotten, Allura an ever present and unwanted presence in my thoughts. I have things to do, the least of which involves seeing to Arus. The Empire won’t run itself, Doom needs it’s King. I think to throw myself into that task, hoping it can distract me. Hoping it can wipe the bitter taste from my mouth.