The light of the harem was a welcome change from the darkness of the rest of the castle, Lotor pausing on the threshold to gaze on the beauties that were scattered across the floor. A possessive pride filled him as he looked, the man satisfied that all these wonderful creatures belong to no one but him.
It wasn’t long before the slaves noticed him, their faces seemed to light up with glee, the women stopping what they were doing as an excited murmur took over the room. The women all watched him with open anticipation, expectation in their eyes as Lotor strode into the room, his walk proud and confidant.
All eyes were on him, watching his every movement as he strode over to a divan, settling himself comfortably across the cushions. Only then did he acknowledge the women, raising a hand, fingers crooked in a come here motion. As one they squealed, excited gasps escaping them as they ran towards his seat, his name on their lips.
How he loved hearing the adoration in their dulcet tones, hearing his caged quarry sing out his praises as they moved. It was an intriguing sight, bodies moving, breasts bouncing as they fought to stay contained in their skimpy tops. The women themselves had smiles plastered on their faces, though a few dark glances were tossed towards each other, as they fought to get closer to their prince.
Lotor didn’t interfere with them, not even when one girl was shoved to the side, a cry of pain escaping her as she landed on her knees. Her assailant was smiling, victorious as she slid between Lotor’s legs, placing a hand on his thigh as she gazed up adoringly at him. Other slaves were claiming perches all around him, one resting on the arm rest, another positioning herself behind him, her hands resting on his shoulders as she leveled a steady gaze towards the remaining women.
Two more squeezed themselves in on the outside of his legs, resting their cheeks against his knees. Lotor laughed at the competition, seeing the pouts on the women’s faced as they eased back, giving him the space needed to breathe. He reached down to pet the one resting between his spread legs, his touch almost absentminded as he patted her head. She cooed and continued to run her fingers along the inside of his thigh suggestively, her smile brilliant and dazzling.
The slave behind him began kneading his skin, her massage working to melt away any tension Lotor may have felt. Off to the corner of him, a slave girl approached, a large feather fan in hand as she began gently waving it, exerting just enough force to let a cool breeze stir his hair. A girl went and fetched a platter of fruit, Lotor allowing his mouth to fall open for her to place an unpealed grape on his waiting tongue.
Off to the corner, a woman seated herself behind the harpsichord, her fingers poised to pluck the strings. A melodious tune seemed to flow from her hands, her voice being raised, adding an ethereal quality to her song. The remaining slaves began dancing before Lotor, arms raised upwards, their hips swaying, the provocative bit of silk between their legs offering tempting flashes of the inside of their thighs.
Lotor laughed, enjoying himself immensely. Someone handed him a cup, delicate hands tipping over a bottle of red wine. He drank greedily of the liquid, enjoying the refreshing taste of fermented berries sliding down the back of his throat. He didn’t quite sigh, but he was content, a low rumble of approval coming from deep within as he watched his harem dance for his amusement.
As he watched them dance, his eyes began a slow glide across each woman’s face. He paused to glance at their ample assets, wondering what he was in the mood for tonight. His attention drifted from woman to woman, names half remembered floating through his mind as he studied them all, wondering if he was in the mood to visit an old and tried hand, or try one of the new girls who stood off to the corner of the room, cowering in fear.
The fear amused him, Lotor confidant that in time he would have the new girls eating out the palm of his hand. They would love him the way all women must do, a taste of his prowess in bed would give them leave to submit, of that he was sure. Lotor felt it was not conceit that colored his thoughts, but plain truth, his past conquests would testify to that.
He drew his eyes back to his dancing beauties, having decided he would not be satisfied with just one woman tonight. He’d take several, hold a grand orgy of sinful delights in his bedroom, the women worshipping him with their lips and their hands, their bodies. Just thinking about it had Lotor shifting, trying to control his reactions. Although part of it could be blamed on the girl resting between his legs. The way Lily was stroking her fingers on his thigh was arousing him as much as his thoughts, Lotor pausing to smile at her.
Lily giggled, batting her eyelashes as she smiled back, sure her place in his bed had been secured this night. Lotor petted her once more, and offered her a sip of goblet, a mark of favor she was quick to seize hold of. Lotor watched her drink, the woman careful to keep from spilling any of the precious liquid. When she was done, Lotor finished off the cup, licking his lips as he savored the taste of the wine.
It was quickly refilled, Lotor once again turning his attention back towards making his night’s selection. Several more blondes were chosen, Lotor calling them from the floor, the slaves going eagerly to stand by his seat. He soon had half a dozen women picked out, and still he searched for one more, not yet satisfied with the night’s crop.
His eyes once again fell on the frightened new girls, Lotor giving a gesture, determined to get a closer look at them.
They didn’t move, huddling closer together and he frowned. A short burst of anger from him, Lotor giving a command that had the dancing harem stop mid sway, turning to look at the cowering girls. The music died down, women approaching the new slaves, ready to drag them over to the impatient prince. Their reluctance was easy to see, but between them, her head held high, a girl emerged, determined not to be bullied and dragged about by these women.
Lotor drew back, surprised, recognizing her as the little slave he had spent the other night with. The girl, her name was on his lips, as he watched her level an angry gaze in his direction. Allura was as bold as ever, making eye contact with him, not content to be meek, as she began moving towards him. But something was wrong, her eyes filled with pain, he could see her biting her lip as she tried not to cry out.
Silently, they all watched the girl labor to walk towards him, her discomfort soon becoming apparent. She was limping, and it was more than just bruised thighs that kept her from walking in a natural, pain free way. Lotor frowned, handing his cup over to one of the seated slaves. His hands began chasing the women away from him, his eyes still on the limping girl.
Lily moved begrudgingly from her perch, her hands no longer touching him as she wisely ascertained his mood to have changed. No longer was Lotor relaxed, and playful, instead he was all but snarling as he went to meet the limping slave girl. This close he could see the pain in her blue eyes, they were bright with it, and he wondered why she didn’t just give in and cry.
Instead Allura glared at him, as if her pain was all his fault. Her lips parted, her words were angry but beautiful in sound, Lotor shaking his head to show he didn’t understand. He could hear his harem gasping, unused to hearing anyone speak to him in such a manner. He was aware he should discipline her for such an act, but concern for her injury pushed aside any such thoughts.
Lotor reached for Allura, and she gasped, an audible squeak escaping her as she tried to evade his hands. She stepped down on her injured foot, her pallor losing some of it’s color as she cried out in pain. Stepping close to her, Lotor took advantage of the distraction pain offered her, scooping her up in his arms. She grabbed onto his shoulders, looking panicked, surely the floor seemed so far away from her now.
Wordlessly he carried her towards a nearby divan, placing her gently down on the cushions. Allura reached for a pillow, looking as though she was tempted to deck him over the head with it. But instead she clutched it against her as though it was a shield, staring as he knelt down before her.
His hands gently touched her ankle, carefully feeling out for any sign of broken bones, a twist, or a sprain. She didn’t so much as make a peep, allowing Lotor to caress his fingertips across her skin. Puzzled, he lifted her foot, and it was then that he saw it. Twisted, ugly thing, red with infection as it marred the bottom of her foot. The brander’s mark, the symbol of a slave placed in such a delicate spot.
Allura whined when his fingers did the barest graze across the ruined skin, she shifted restless, trying to pull her leg from his grasp. “Someone bring me ointments and medicines at once!” Lotor shouted, and the harem was thrown into movement. The women who understood him rushed to get the things he asked for, the others milling about uncertainly, watching with curious expressions.
“And send someone to fetch Jargavis!” Lotor snarled, allowing Allura’s foot to rest on his lap. She was watching him, anxious and bothered by his shouts. Lotor offered her a tender smile, speaking soothingly to her.
“It’s okay little one.” He told her, fingers caressing the side of her ankle, staying well away from her injury. “You have nothing to worry about.” He all but snatched the cream from the approaching slave’s hands, causing her to unceremoniously drop the bottles and ointments she carried. They clattered to the carpet with loud thumps, Lotor sparing a glance at them for the one he needed.
He applied a liberal amount of the cold cream to Allura’s foot, hearing her let out a whine of protest. Again he was speaking to her, offering her comfort with the tone of his voice as he worked to massage the medicine into her foot.
He was just finishing bandaging up Allura’s foot with white gauze when the one known as Jargavis arrived. Allura’s eyes flashed, blue looking frightened as she tried to cower, nearly falling off the divan in her attempt to flee. Lotor’s hands were on her waist, holding her up, keeping her sitting up right before him.
“You wanted to see me, your highness?” Jargavis asked, uncertainty in his tone.
“Yes.” Lotor said, rising to stand and tower over the shorter man. “Just what were you thinking?!”
“Pardon?” Jargavis looked confused, Lotor exasperatedly gesturing at Allura. He had to keep one hand on her shoulder, hold her in place as she squirmed, making tiny protests as she tried to leave the divan.
“How could you brand her on the bottom of her foot?!” Lotor demanded, barely containing his snarl.
“Ah…” Jargavis peered around Lotor, his eyes alighting on the frightened slave. “Now I remember…Forgive me your highness. I could not bring myself to mar the beauty that was her flawless skin. I thought it better to put the brand where it would not be an ugly blight on such perfection.”
“So you risk leaving her a cripple for vanity’s sake?!” Lotor shouted, and even Jargavis flinched from the anger he showed.
“A million pardons your highness…” Jargavis said, quick to realize he was threading a thin line. “I won’t do such a thing again.”
“You won’t.” Lotor said, his voice thick with promise. “I am demoting you to robeast stable cleaner.”
“Keep speaking and I will see you fed to one of the beasts.” Lotor threatened. “Now be gone from my sight at once!”
Jargavis had to be dragged out of the room by the soldiers, the man issuing pleas as he fought to reach Prince Lotor’s side. Lotor all but ignored him, turning his attention back to Allura, who stared at him uncomprehending.
“I’m sorry little one.” He reached to pet her cheek, the girl unflinching as she studied him. He had to shake himself free of the spell her mesmerizing blue eyes cast on him, his tone coming out harsher than he liked.
“Someone keep an eye on her foot.” He ordered, glancing about the room, seeing the women nodding. “Make sure the bandages are changed daily. Keep putting on the ointment. Notify me if her infection gets worse.”
He risked a glance at the wide eyed slave, Lotor’s fingers slow to leave her cheek. It was a lingering touch he gave her, before he sighed and pulled away. She said something to his back, just a chirp that ended with a question. Lotor shrugged, moving away, gesturing for the girls he had picked out earlier to come to his side. They surrounded him eagerly, pressing their bodies against his, caressing his hair, and cooing sweet nothings in his ear.
But before he stepped out into the hall, he turned back, seeing the little slave still sitting where he left her, watching him with an unreadable expression on her face. He had to quickly turn away, but he couldn’t block out the memory of her eyes, looking as though Allura had been staring into his very soul.