Regret 11

I can’t ever remember being allowed the luxury of spending an entire day in bed. Always I have had responsibilities, from my studies, to ruling, to being the pilot of blue lion. I can remember the endless pages of paperwork that required my signature, the near indecipherable legal prose I had to read over and understand. The meetings with people both of my planet and dignitaries from other worlds, all ending with me attempting my best to help and meet the needs of all who had come to my home. The times have changed. I am unable to help many, their problems and concerns seeming a thousand times worse than what I have had to deal with when Arus struggled to survive a war with Doom. It is strange, but I miss those days. I miss the constant struggle to remain free and independent of Doom’s greedy ambitions. Most of all I miss blue lion, I miss the illusion of freedom being a pilot gave me.

I’ve never been a carefree woman. Arus always needed me too much. My people were always rebuilding, the crop fields were always in danger of being razed to the ground. Often times we didn’t have enough medicines, or the money to buy the medical treatment my people so often needed. There was always some kind of problem, some situation to deal with. And yet that time was the closest to happy I can ever remember being. I mourn for that fleeting taste of happiness, fearing, knowing I will most likely never again know true joy. I’ve come too far, I’ve changed too much, to ever truly be satisfied with my life.

Just as I’ve changed, so has Arus and the galaxy. The Galaxy Alliance is no more, all but torn apart once Doom began thriving under Lotor’s rule. Many of the planets who were once members of that great Alliance? Gone now, having pulled out in favor of throwing their fate with the Empire. Those who remained, clinging to the old ideals? They too gained the Empire’s attention, the Drules ruthless as they attacked, killing off the leaders, and enslaving the people. With so few planets left to the Alliance, there was little chance to hold back the Empire’s onslaught even with Voltron attempting to lend aid.

During the early days of Lotor’s rule, the Voltron Force had been stretched thin. There was simply too many worlds that needed saving, and too few allies to help us. The Doom Empire had been growing in numbers, it’s strength added to with each new planet that willingly became a part of it. With so many ships, and the soldiers to fly them, the Empire made a sweep of the galaxy, consuming all it came in contact with. It was a losing battle we fought, and not even the most idealistic of us, Keith, could keep the faith forever.

Especially when the Alliance formally ceased to be. With no Alliance to fund us, things rapidly worsened. Money Arus had depended on was no longer there to borrow against, to buy the things we so desperately needed. Nor did the planet’s treasury have enough gold to make up the difference. Other worlds wouldn’t lend to us, save for a few like Pollux who still remained grateful for the assistance the Voltron Force had provided in the past. But with the situation as it was, not even gratitude’s generosity could sustain us all for very long.

Little by little, the handful of planets that had remained loyal to Arus, simply stopped acknowledging my pleas for aid. It had hurt, but I had to be brave, to make a show of understanding that those worlds had to take care of their own first. They and Arus weren’t the only ones whose needs weren’t being met. The Voltron Force itself was struggling, torn apart not by politics or broken friendships, but by empty pockets. No money equals no future, and there was no Alliance to pay the Voltron Force’s salaries. The work was increasing in difficulty, the fights ever more dangerous. There was no money to make it worth the risk to our lives, no glory for failed heroics. Lance was the first to leave. He just packed up one night and left, not even a note to say good-bye. Hunk and Pidge left soon after and together, returning to Earth to start over there.

I had cried the hardest when Keith left, the parting made all the more painful by the way he tried to justify his leaving. I still remember his words, the slap in the face they gave me, when Keith nervously admitted there was no future left to Arus. It hurt all the more, because I felt he was right, but I didn’t wonder how things could have become so bad. Arus had always struggled to get by, to survive the sixteen year war with Doom. Zarkon had nearly destroyed us the first time he invaded, and the fact that the war had continued for so many years ensured we never completely recovered from the damages done to our world. The dreams of returning to the paradise Arus had once been, were just that, the planet too poor, too ruined, to recover on it’s own.

If I could have found a wealthy benefactor, things might have been different. I might not have had to sell myself to Lotor. But those worlds wealthy enough to play savior to Arus, had no such desire. They only wanted to take what they could from Arus, to further drive us into ruin in some sick bid to prove themselves worthy of the Empire. Other worlds that may have had an interest in helping Arus, soon lost all desire when I gave up Voltron to Lotor. What good was my father’s robot to a people who were dying? It could do little save buy us aid that would help the planet and it’s people to live just a little longer.

I could barely look at Lotor the day he personally came to take the lions from me. I didn’t want to see the cold amusement in his eyes, or worse yet pity. Worst of all, I didn’t want to risk him asking to marry me once more, afraid of my answer, afraid I would say yes, afraid I would say no. Either answer would have led to my suffering, and I don’t know if I had been desperate enough back then, to submit to Lotor’s lusts even to save my dying people.

It is that reluctance, that refusal to do what Arus needed done, that led to the civil wars breaking out. There were many who resented me for refusing Lotor. They felt in denying the King, I had denied Arus, damning it and my people to never ending suffering. Worse, I knew it to be true, refusing to do that one thing in some desperate act to preserve myself. Selfish I know. The good of one cannot outweigh the good of the many, and yet that’s exactly what I had done. And no amount of trying to save Arus through other means could atone for the sin I had committed.

I came to hate myself, to despise my actions. I wasn’t alone in this, a good number of the people of Arus splitting into factions. Siding with greedy, grasping nobles who thought it their chance to seize my crown. I don’t even know if they thought things through, if they had any real plans to change things on Arus. But the infighting began in earnest, nobles targeting not only me, but each other. Lord Plactus wasn’t the only one to come close to hurting me. There’s been a handful of others, their intent to either capture or kill me, depending on how valuable they thought my life was to Arus.

I had feared more the ones who would capture me alive, then the ones who would see me dead. At least dead, I wouldn’t have had to hurt anymore. But alive? They would have used me in an attempt to barter with Lotor, to sell me off as the means to buy more financial aid from the Empire. It’s exactly what I have done, submitting myself to what has proved inevitable. Only the nature of my dealings with Lotor has changed, there’s no more promise of a ring in my future. I’m nothing more than his property, stripped of everything, including my pride.

I can’t even keep from crying, the hot tears seeming to burn their way down my cheeks. I’ve spent much of the day sobbing, stealing what little sleep I can once I’ve collapsed exhausted from my grief. I feel as dirty and used as Lotor has made me, and not even the two showers I’ve taken have chased away that unclean feeling. It is made worse when the gifts start arriving. The tokens that are meant to serve as no more than a reminder of what I am. A kept woman, who has no true freedoms left to her. For all my disgust and self loathing, I still try to eat the meals that are brought to my chambers. I share this food with my maids, and we’re nearly all sick. We are not used to such rich foods, or to the abundance made available to us. We almost feel guilty to have so much when we know there are so many starving on Arus. Often time the people of Arus don’t get to eat more than one meal a day, let alone the three that have been delivered to me.

The second meal is easier to swallow. We’ve learned to control ourselves, no longer eating as though this might be the last meal we’ll ever enjoy. For the first time in weeks, my stomach feels full and I don’t even attempt to partake of the indulgence that is dinner.

Sometime in between these meals, a doctor is sent to me. She is very brusque, actually looking down her nose at me. If I had dared forget why I was here, what I was doing, the shots make me remember. I’m given two, both as potent a pregnancy preventative as there exists. I am informed these shots will be a daily part of my life, that accidents will not be tolerated. The doctor treats me as if I want to trap Lotor with a baby, but I don’t try to correct her way of thinking. I let her check over my shoulder, the doctor cleaning it with an antiseptic and insisting I will be fine.

I don’t FEEL fine at all. I hurt, and it’s not just the aches and pains of my body. I am upset, my very thoughts and emotions torturing me. I am disgusted by what I have had to do, what I will have to continue to do. The self loathing is nearly my undoing, and it intensifies every time I notice the bruises on my arms. And by the clothing, several packages arriving. It’s just the beginning, the first of my new wardrobe. I barely examine the items save for the first gown. It is a rich ruby red in coloring, with several glinting diamonds sewn into the frame of the bodice. The women I have brought with me from Arus, all gasped to see it, Marie actually wondering if the jewels sewn in that and the other gowns were real.

Another, Andrea, scoffs at Marie’s naivety, insisting that of course they are real. That humbles us all, the realization upon us that this one single dress holds enough wealth to feed an entire village on Arus for a month’s time. Never have I known such luxury, such an extravagant waste of money. I come from a world that is badly in need of the money Lotor casually spends on dresses, the clothing a stinging reminder of how much I, and Arus, now depends on his generosity.

I do not try on any of the outfits. There will be time for that later. Time for me to get used to wearing such fortunes. I got to bed, clad not in one of the form fitting, slinky silk concoctions, but my own comfortable cotton nightgown. It has a long skirt, the hem falling nearly past my ankles, while the short sleeves leave my arms bare. The neckline is modest, not at all the plunging cleavage Lotor would have me expose. It is neither new nor rich, frayed in places, with several patches sewn into it to make the nightgown last just a little longer.

Not at all sexy, and in no way reminding me of my duty to Lotor, wearing it, I could almost pretend things were normal. Almost, if I kept the lights off so as not to see the opulent surroundings, and ignored the feel of a mattress that is way too soft to be my own.

It is difficult for me to sleep now. It’s not just that I am upset, but that I’ve snatched hours here and there during a day that seemed endless. Some part of me wonders if it will always be like this, if I should get used to sleeping during the day so that I can stay up at night to better serve Lotor. That sends a shudder through me, images flashing through my mind. I remember the feel of him, stretching my jaw. The bitter taste of his come on my tongue, the brutal way he thrust into my mouth. I am suddenly ill, throwing off the covers and running to the bathroom, thinking I may vomit. I do not, and then Marie is besides me. Her eyes are frightened, her face looking far too pale for a woman who spent so much time working out in the sun.

“What? What is it?” I whisper hoarsely, but I already know. There is only one reason why Marie would look so scared at this time of night. The summons I have been dreading has finally come, Lotor deciding he has use for me now. It doesn’t matter that it is the middle of the night, my duty is to make myself available to him whenever and wherever he chooses. And right now there isn’t even time to change, Marie expressing how urgent a demand the summons for me is. All I can do is eat a quick breath mint, and pull on the thin robe that goes over my nightgown before a guard is hurrying me out of the room.

It’s different from the last time. I wonder why, then almost laugh. It’s obvious I think to myself. Now that I have been a victim at Lotor’s hands, he clearly doesn’t trust me to come to him on my own. The guard is here to ensure that I live up to my promise, that I don’t try to back out or feign illness. I feel wretched as I am all but dragged the final steps before Lotor’s room, the guard none too gently shoving me inside. The doors slam shut, and I flinch, crossing my arms over my chest, trying to rub warmth into my body with my hands.

I feel small, uncertain and uneasy. All my previous aches and pains? They seem magnified in intensity. My chest heaves from my anxious breathing, and I think I may have a panic attack before Lotor even draws near. He’s across the room, an open bottle of wine in his hands. His unsettling gaze is on me, the King drinking directly from the bottle. He seems not to care that he spills the liquid on his robe, too busy glaring at me. That look alone is hostile, he’s not playing at hiding his emotions at all. I wonder if he’s too drunk to care, wonder if his anger has anything to do with me, or if I will simply be the outlet in which he expends his rage on. There’s too much I don’t know, too much I am scared to find out about. But I sense the danger in the air, and the raw sexual urgency he projects. He’s not going to hold back, I know this, and I would collapse in a fit of tears if I thought it in any way that would soften what he intended to do.

“Just what are you wearing?!” He finally snarls at me, throwing the wine bottle on the floor. I flinch at the violence of that sudden action, the glass shattering apart. “Answer me, Allura!”

“I…my nightgown?” I stammer it out as a question, my hands beginning to tremble.

“Take it off.” He orders me with a sneer. “The sight of that garment offends me.” I don’t move fast enough, fumbling just to get the robe off. In an instant he is before me, grabbing hold of my gown. My arms are tangled up in the robe’s sleeves, Lotor ignoring that to rip to shreds my nightgown. Only a few tattered strips remain on my body, the rest of the torn nightgown in Lotor’s hands. He’s still sneering at me, but his gaze heats up with a desire all too familiar to me as he stares at my body. I’m still struggling to get my arms free of the robe, wanting nothing more than to pull it close around me. Instead I drop it to the floor, shaking harder as I stand before him clad only in a pair of plain panties.

Those panties offend him as much as the nightgown had. Even as he goes to rip them from my body, he is berating me. “I did not just spend close to a million credits to see that to your proper dressing, for you to appear before me like some, some country peasant bitch!”

My body had tried to jerk away from the violent way he tore off my panties, and now my shocked gaze rose to meet his glare. I knew he was rich, and some part of me had understood that he had spent a small fortune on my new wardrobe. But nearly a million credits? It is an obscene amount, as shocking as his words are hurtful.

“I…I am sorry?” It is more bewildered question than true apology, and does nothing to appease Lotor.

“You are not going to repeat this mistake.” He tells me. “Come tomorrow, I will have every last scrap of the clothing you brought with you from Arus burned. You will wear what I give you, or you will wear nothing at all. Is that understood?”

I will not cry, I can’t, won’t give him the satisfaction of seeing my tears this quickly. “Yes.” I hiss at him, the word holding all my bitterness then. I didn’t even try to hide what I am feeling, and Lotor is not yet so drunk as to not notice my resentment.

“You have no right to use that tone with me.” He snaps.

“I know the deal I have made.” I tell him, my tone full of despair and resignation. “I know the rights I have given up in coming here. In continuing to allow you to use me.” But those words do nothing to appease him. If anything Lotor is more agitated, his fangs flashing with his scowl. I don’t understand, can’t fathom what he had wanted me to say. His mood is such that I would say just about anything if it would calm some of his anger down, get him to stop staring at me with such a hostile look in his eyes.

I don’t know what is worse. The anger, or the desire I feel coming off him. He seems to resent it and me, but it doesn’t stop his cock from reacting. From throbbing with violent need. He seems enormous, dick jutting out through the flaps of his robe. I am still so new to the sight of it, that the size alone is scary. I don’t want that thing near me, don’t want it thrusting inside me. I remember the pain of it’s penetration, the way he had hurt me with it so that I could barely walk after. I shake so badly, actually jerking away when Lotor attempts to reach for me.

The anger in his eyes turn to fury, Lotor lunging forward. This time I don’t succeed in evading him, his fingers closing around my arm. His sharp nails dig into my skin, those claws of his drawing blood. I make a small, pained sound, finding myself drawn against him. My nakedness only serves to make me feel more vulnerable, my nipples stiffening in fear. It’s just one more reaction that serves to further enrage him, Lotor grabbing my hand. Forcing it against his erection.

“This is why you are here.” Lotor tells me, his breath carrying the scent of the wine he had been drinking. “This is the price you must pay to gain help for Arus.”

I close my eyes, and nod my head, breathing out a yes. I close my fingers around his dick, ready to pump my hand along it’s length. I hear him hiss in response, and I don’t understand all the words he says. He’s muttering, some of the words in Drule, and all of them angry. When I open my eyes, he’s glaring again at me, searching my face for a sign of something, what I do not know. Whatever it is he wants, he doesn’t find it, Lotor letting out a stream of curses. He frees himself of my grip, but he is in no way finished with me.

I end up pushed against the nearest chair, trapped against it’s back with Lotor’s fingers between my legs. He’s all a frenzy of movement, almost frantic as he rubs my sex, trying to get a response out of me. I squirm, and dare to push against his chest, not enjoying at all the desperate play of his fingers on me. Lotor bends down to kiss and lick at my breasts, popping one nipple into his mouth and giving a furious suck. That tears a protesting whine from me, my squirming becoming more vigorous.

His fingers and mouth are relentless, Lotor showing more patience than I thought a drunk capable of. I don’t want to react, don’t want to feel anything but disgust for what he is doing. But as his thumb caresses repeatedly over my clit, I start to grow wet. Not a lot, but enough for him to pull back his fingers. There was no time given to me to recover before Lotor spreads my legs open. He’s inside me in one violent thrust, the length of him rubbing over every sore part of me. I start to scream, bracing myself for the pain of his thrusting only to squeal startled instead. Lotor is coming inside me, his hot seed flooding my womb as HE screams MY name.

“Allura!”

Lotor holds me in place. shuddering violently. His breathing is harsh, rasping out of him as he tries to speak. Again he says my name, his face buried against my shoulder. I can do nothing, pinned as I am. I am merely stunned, hardly believing it could be over this fast. It takes more than a minute for Lotor to get over his violent and fast climax, and when he does the curses resume. He jerks out of me so fast, some of his seed splatters on the floor. I am close to joining it, hardly able to stand up, and shaking in my relief.

He doesn’t need to pick me up, or carry me to his bed. Especially when his intent is to go to sleep right away. His back is to me, I’m all but ignored. Stunned and shaken by what has happened, and left to wonder why he didn’t just leave me on the floor.

——————————————————————————————————————————–

To Be Continued….

I think it was Scorpinac who asked about some of like how the Galaxy Alliance might have disbanded/fallen apart. When I first started this story, I hadn’t a back story for how that happened. I had just wanted a set up where I could get to the sex right away. Clearly this fic isn’t all about being a vehicle just for smut now. Though there’s still plenty of smut to be found. XD

Also. my timeline for this fic….Allura’s parents were killed when she was just two years old, the war between Arus and Doom starting in earnest. It would continue for sixteen years, ending when she was eighteen. When she was sixteen, Lotor first saw her and proposed marriage. He would spend the next two years chasing after her, trying to force her to say yes to him. By the time she was eighteen, Zarkon died and Lotor became King of Doom. He’d make one final offer of marriage to Allura but she would vehemently reject him, breaking his heart. It would take another ten years before she came to Doom ready to sell herself for the help Arus needed. Allura is twenty-eight in this fic. I haven’t decided how much older Lotor is…

—Michelle


One Response to “Regret 11”

  1. I love the new storey regrat. If u could u should try make keith come there as a slave n allrua see him n lotor get mad bc allrua miss him so much. But keith died bc lotor kills him right there n then

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