The sky was blackened not by storm clouds but by hundreds of ships, the black and gray vessels that made up the Doom Fleet up in the air. Dispersed between them were sleeker crafts, light gray in appearance, battling desperately against the behemoths of Doom. They were vastly outnumbered, already many of them had fallen in the ensuing battle, crashing into the fields below.
Laser fire was exchanged, a constant volley of blasts that attacked not only ships but the towns located below the sky battle. The Doom fleet was cocky, knowing the battle was already won, ships breaking apart from the heart of it to began razing the villages of the planet. Fire consumed the towns, flames licking at the buildings, the people panicked and running. Their nightmare was only beginning, the flames just the start of the pillaging that would commence.
Doom soldiers would be quick to surround the burning towns, ready to catch any who tried to escape, eager to kill and to explore the town’s ruins for the treasure that would be their reward.
The castle itself stood untouched from all outward appearances, several ships from Planet Doom parked outside the castle walls. But inside chaos reigned, the sounds of screams, and women’s sobbing echoing throughout it’s stone walls. The Doom soldiers were on a rampage, drunken revelry as they tore apart the rooms, taking anything of value, killing many, and enslaving even more.
Lotor listened to the sounds, his body positioned before the balcony window of the bedroom he had taken over. He could hear a woman screaming, desperate for help as the soldiers raped her, their vicious laughter not enough to drown out her cries. Lotor himself was quite calm as he took a long sip of his drink, eyes watching the battle in the sky.
It was just another battle to him, the capture of planet Pollux all too easy now that it’s shields had been lowered. It wouldn’t be long before the last of it’s resistance fell, and after a few days of drunken revelry, the real work would begin. That of rebuilding the planet in Doom’s image, setting the people, the slaves to resume work in the mines. The lazon of course, was the most important asset the planet possessed, far more valuable than food and goods, and even human lives.
The royal family was done for, it’s king slain, and it’s young prince suffering a similar fate. Lotor had kept him alive only long enough to force the codes for the planetary shield out of the men who worked the castle’s control room. Bandor hadn’t even been able to plead for his life, not knowing the language of the Drules. Not that Lotor had been inclined to show any mercy to the child, slicing his throat with his own sword.
The princess was still out there somewhere, unaccounted for at the moment. Lotor smirked, knowing as a woman there was little she could do to fight him, fight Doom. She would be found and enslaved, there was no escape for her unless she chose to die by her hand alone. It wouldn’t be the first time a woman of royal blood had killed herself to avoid becoming a slave of Doom.
Cheers from the outside caught Lotor’s attention, drawing him away from his thoughts. Several soldiers were in the midst of building a bonfire, using the royal family’s portraits as fuel. The paintings had little value aside from the sentimental aspect, the soldiers actions meant to spit on Avok’s bloodline. Lotor snorted, amused by their actions, noticing his cup had run empty of his wine.
He turned away from the window, his eyes immediately seeking out the bed that lay in the center of the room. It was a grand thing, with sheets painted a gold color, the fabric shiny and reflecting the light of the room. Silver fringed the ends of it, pillow colored a similar shade, intermixed with a few royal purple cushions for good measure. The dark mahogany wood curved upwards to form a canopy over the bed, translucent white sheets falling downwards to enclose the bed in a kind of tent.
Right now the sides of the sheets were pinned back, offering Lotor an unobstructed view at the girl who laid sleeping atop the bed. She looked like an angel, seeming so pure and untouched in her white finery, her cloak removed, revealing the white dress beneath it. Lotor was unused to seeing Allura in anything but the outfit of a harem girl, the man torn between conflciting emotions. He approved of how she looked in her fine gown, liking the way the silver edge the low cut bodice of her dress. And yet he felt displeasure at the way it hid her body from him, leaving only her shoulders bare to his eyes.
He stared at her a moment longer, watching the even way her chest rose and fell, the girl still unconscious from his earlier pinch. Not even the screams that echoed through out the castle disturbed her, Allura sleeping through much of the invasion of Pollux.
With a snort, Lotor tore his eyes away from the vision that was Allura, walking towards the table where several uncorked bottles of wine lay. He gave each bottle his full consideration, debating on which fine berry to sample next. Each bottle was worth hundreds of dollars, coming from such far off places as Tyrus and Zaloria, and even one or two from Doom’s own captured vineyards.
He was pouring out his selection, a wine that was as red as blood when he heard Allura stir. She made a sound, a soft sigh that he almost missed, Lotor not turning as he lifted the goblet to his lips. He kept his senses tuned to her, hearing the rustle of her skirts as she sat up, quiet as a mouse except for that sound. He wondered if she looked around the room, wondered if she recognized it, if she had been here before.
He was secure in the knowledge that she had been a virgin when she first came to him, and yet his fingers tightened on the goblet’s stem as he wondered if Avok had had the balls to steal a few kisses from her inside these chambers. His vision practically turned green as he imagined Avok placing his hands on Allura, and for a second he wished he could kill the man a second time.
More sounds from Allura, the girl trying her best to keep the mattress from creaking as she moved. Lotor pretended not to notice, curious as to what she intended to do. The bed stopped it’s groaning, the girl getting her feet onto the floor, surely grateful the carpeting would muffled the clicking of her shoe’s heels. Again that rustle of her skirts, Lotor fighting the temptation to turn when he heard it. A soft cry of dismay, anguish at the core of her sound.
Now he turned, setting the goblet onto the table top, as he looked at Allura. She paid him no mind, eyes wide as she stared out the window, seeing the ships in the sky, and the flames that engulfed a nearby town. She whispered something, surely a no of some kind, and then she was sagging, starting to fall to the floor.
In the blink of an eye, Lotor was there, arms around her for support. For one-second she let him hold her, eyes downcast as a tear slipped down her cheek. He said nothing to her, merely keeping her upright, Lotor noticing the way everything was limp about her. That limpness was a deception, he saw that the instant she raised her head, eyes going from dull disbelief to smoldering anger.
Not even bothering to straighten, she was suddenly propelling her right arm in his direction, hand slapping across his jaw. Lotor had been distracted by her eyes, noting that even in her anger towards him, they were still beautiful, reminding him of a turbulent ocean during a vicious storm. Her slap though brought him back to the situation at hand, Lotor narrowing his own eyes at her.
She didn’t heed the warning, both of Allura’s hands curled into fists which she brought now to bear against his chest. Furious thumps, the girl beating at his front with all her might, angry wails accompanying her actions. Allura’s tone was accusing, she screamed and ranted at him in her language, angry tears escaping her eyes. For one brief instant he let her work out some of her anger, but then he tired of her tantrum.
Without a word, he dropped her, Allura falling to the floor, her skirts puffing up around her. She looked startled, Lotor expecting her to jump up and resume her attacks against him. But instead she surprised him, breaking into tears, lifting her hands to her face to hide from him. It didn’t disguise what she was doing, her shoulders shaking, her loud cries of grief hardly muffled by her hands.
Lotor stared down at Allura, never one to know what to do with a hysterical woman, especially one that was crying so hard and so desperate. He did the only thing he could think of, he turned his back on her, intent on retrieving his wine goblet.
Never breaking stride in her crying, Allura got to her feet, and took an unsteady lunge toward Lotor. Or, as he was quick to realize, more specifically his sword belt, her small hands scrambling to unsheathe his sword from it’s leather scabbard. Her fingers actually closed around the hilt of his sword before Lotor grabbed her, hauling her upright and away from his belt.
Allura shrieked like a wild woman, head tossing to the left and to the right, more of her hair coming unraveled from her bun due to the force of her movements. Lotor tightened his hands on her upper arms, giving her a fierce shake of his own. “Little fool!” He hissed, and she looked at him now, wide eyed from the anger in his tone. “Do you want to die?”
He saw the weariness in her eyes, the defeat that coursed through her an instant before she answered him. “Yes.”
That left Lotor stunned, the prince unsure of how to react to her admittance. They stood staring at each other for what seemed like an eternity, neither moving, Lotor growing more and more angry by the second. With a growled out curse, he suddenly spun her around, pressing her back against his chest even as his hand drew his sword. No reaction from Allura, not even when he pressed the lazon to her throat, it’s hum loud in their ears.
“I can grant you that desire…” Lotor told her, and for an instant he was tempted, thinking he might be free of the spell she put on him. “I can end it all for you right now…!”
In response she merely leaned forward, pressing her throat against the blade hard enough to split her skin. Lotor let out a vicious curse, quickly pulling his sword away from her neck before she could complete the move. He plunged the blade into the table, the wood anchoring it in place, Lotor confidant Allura would not be able to pull it free should she make a move towards it.
His actions took only an instant to complete, Lotor spinning her around, seeing the blood trickle down her throat and onto her chest, the lines of it soaking into her dress. More cursing from him, Lotor grabbing hold of a napkin, and bringing it to her throat. She just stared at him, tears once again pouring down her cheeks.
“Why?” Allura whispered at last, and then repeated the word, louder this time. “WHY?!”
“Why what?” Lotor demanded, knowing there was a million things she could be asking him.
“Why….” She struggled to think of the words in Drule, her question coming out garbled but he got her meaning. “Why won’t you let me die?”
He hesitated, napkin pressed against her skin. “You…You belong to me. Not just in body, but in mind and soul. Your life is mine, to do with as I please. I won’t let you go….won’t let you escape from me that easily.”
“Ah…!” A wordless cry then, Allura trying to jerk free of his hand. “Hate you.”
Her words stunned him, even though on some level Lotor had been assured of her hatred for his most recent actions. A dagger seemed to pierce his heart at her confession, and then his eyes were narrowing, a glare on his face.
“I HATE YOU!!” She all but screamed in his face, sounding scared but defiant in the face of his anger.
“It doesn’t matter what you think, what you feel!” Lotor returned, dropping the bloodied napkin on the floor. He took a step forward, dragging her with him as he shouted. “You’re mine…to do with as I please.”
“Yes.” A calm rebuttal from him, Lotor dragging her to the bed. She thrashed about, grabbing onto one of the posts, forcing Lotor to pry her fingers free of the wood. His arm slid around her waist, Lotor lifting her up so her feet dangling off the floor. It mattered little to Allura, she kicked out wildly, even as Lotor threw her onto the bed.
“AVOK!” Allura suddenly screamed, that hated name on her lips.
“Avok is dead.” Lotor reminded her, look grim as he stared down at her on the bed. “I killed him remember?” That set off a fresh waves of tears, Allura pushing up on her elbows as she backed away from Lotor.
She bumped into the headboard, Allura’s hands grabbing for a pillow. “Monster!” She said the word in Drule, robeast issuing from her lips. “Fiend!” Pillow after pillow flew in his direction, Lotor raising an arm to let the cushions bounce off of. She grabbed the last pillow, and sat up on her knees, bringing it to whack repeatedly against him. “Murderer!”
“And don’t you forget it!” Lotor said, snatching the pillow from her. She was left with nothing but her fists, desperate as she began beating them against his chest. He grabbed her wrists, bending back her arms so that Allura cried out in pain. He stared at her frustrated, and then impulse took him over, Lotor striking quick and fast, claiming her lips with his own.
It was their first kiss, and with it came heated emotions, Lotor all angry passion as pushed his lips against Allura’s with bruising force. She made a cry, a whimper that had her lips parting against his intensity, Lotor taking advantage to quickly plunge his tongue past her open lips. He only got a brief taste of the inside of her mouth, and then her teeth were closing in around his tongue, biting down hard.
Lotor cried out in pain, tasting his own blood as he pulled back from Allura. She looked halfway between mad and frightened, staring at him as he glared at her, tongue aching from the sting of her teeth.
“That was a mistake.” He told her, unsure of who he was admonishing, himself or her.
“You no do that again!” Allura told him in broken Drule, Lotor growling in response, dropping her onto her back.
“And you don’t tell me no!” Lotor snarled, hands reaching for his belt. “You don’t get to tell me what I can and can’t do. You don’t have any say in this relationship!” The skull clicked open, sword belt loosening around his waist. Lotor growled, wondering when he had begun to think of his dalliance with Allura as something so involving as a relationship. “I call all the shots, I make all the decisions, and don’t you forget it.”
She glared at him, Lotor unsure of how much she had understood. His belt dropped to the floor, Lotor getting a knee up on the bed, reaching for her. His hands landed on her waist, feeling the satin of her dress, Lotor burying his face in the crook of her shoulder. She made a sound, a cry of revulsion on Allura’s lips, her hands grabbing at his arms, trying to shove him away from her.
He was immovable, his kisses angry, lips working furiously against her soft skin. His hands roamed her body, pawing at her breasts, Allura’s disgusted sounds incensing him further. A sudden pain on the side of his face made him look up, just in time to get slapped a second time.
“Allura!” Lotor snarled out her name, and grabbed her hands, squeezing down on her slender wrists. “Behave! Behave or else…” His threat went unfinished, Allura spitting in his face. That was the final straw, Lotor moving to flip Allura onto her stomach, transferring the grip on her wrists to one hand, as his free one wiped the spit trail off his cheek.
“I’m through being nice…” Lotor muttered, yanking her skirts upwards, revealing her ass and her legs. “It’s time you learn who your master is once and for all.” With that he was tearing her panties, the cotton material shredding as he pulled them off her body.
“NO!” Allura let out a panicked cry, bucking up against him, trying to pull her hands away from his grip. He didn’t even reply to her, too busy forcing her legs to spread with his knee. His hand was busy undoing the laces of his pants, Lotor pulling out his half erect cock. A few strokes of his hand had him hard all the way through, Lotor drawing up against Allura with a growl.
Except for that growl, he was eerily silent, rubbing his cock against her womanhood. Allura cried out, shaking her head no. “Lotor, you no do that!”
Her words settled things for him, Lotor’s eyes narrowing as he pushed the head of his cock inside her, hearing her let out a wild shriek. It shook her whole body as she screamed, Lotor finding her tight and tense as he thrust the rest of the way inside her. It hurt her, he could tell from the sounds she was making and the way she tried to scramble away from him.
Her fingers curled into claws, the nails digging into her palms hard enough to draw her blood. Lotor squeezed down on her wrists, his free hand sliding under her to press his palm against her belly, holding her in place as he began to move. He found it difficult without proper lubrication, the sounds Allura was making weren’t helping. She was whimpering like a wounded animal, having settled down enough to just lie there as he had his way with her.
He was surprised to feel disgust working it’s way through his body, Lotor angry at the both of them. Him for doing this, and her for making him react in such a way. He was supposed to have better control than this, and here he was acting no better than his own soldiers, having given little thought to Allura’s care and comfort.
And yet he didn’t stop, slowing his pace a little so as not to hurt her any further with his thrusting. He let his full weight drop on her, pinning her down so he could press his lips against the back of her shoulder. Allura barely reacted, keeping up that pitiful crying as he sank his fangs into her skin, marking her with his teeth.
When he let go of her hands, she didn’t even move them, letting them lay limp on the mattress, her face downcast as she sniffled and cried onto the bed sheets. Lotor continued his movements, silent as he lacked the desire to moan, finding no pleasure in what he was doing to her. It had become a burdensome job, a task that left him feeling guilty and disgusted with himself, Lotor’s hips surging forward one last time as he came.
He rolled off her, and still she did not move, laying in her own self misery as she cried. A sullen look on his face, Lotor pulled her skirts downwards, trying to restore to her a sense of modesty. His hand then hovered over the back of her head, Lotor not quite touching her as he stared down at her. “Allura I….I…” He was what? Sorry? He kept from snorting out loud, finding another thing to blame on her. As Prince of Doom he didn’t feel sorry, the emotion was a foreign concept to him. And yet with her, he now experienced it, his heart heavy and his mood as foul as ever as he stood and turned away from Allura.