She was down on her knees, the former princess of Pollux perched between his spread legs, her hands on his thighs. She moved them sensually, pressing down on the leather of his pants, her palms rubbing up and down, causing heated friction he could feel even through the material of his pants.
Lotor leaned back in his seat, just watching Romelle with half lidded eyes, his fingers curled around the stem of a wine glass. The minx was trying her best to seduce him, her voice all purrs and soft spoken entreaties, her hands kneading a path that moved ever closer to his groin.
“Do hurry it up my dear…” Lotor said, his words slurred from too much drink. “Lest I lose complete interest in you.”
She blinked, Romelle confused by his words, Lotor biting back a sigh. It had been a week since they had arrived on Doom, and she still lacked even the basic knowledge of Drule. It made relaying orders to her tiresome, Lotor used to having his desires answered immediately.
A questioning sound from her, Romelle resuming massaging his thighs, smiling brightly at him. That expression of hers wavered when he narrowed his eyes, a soft growl issuing out of his throat as he roughly grabbed hold of her wrist. She made a pained sound, but did not struggle, watching as Lotor pressed her hand against his covered groin.
“There.” Lotor said, voice ripe with satisfaction. “You can’t possible miss the meaning of this.”
Indeed her eyes showed her understanding, Romelle pushing her hand against the growing bulge contained in his pants. Lotor took a sip of his wine, barely paying attention to her as she began easing down the zipper of his pants. Her fingers dipped inside, the girl questing for his manhood, curling her fingers around it. Lotor let out a hiss, the sound not betraying what he felt as she eased his erection out of his pants.
For a second Romelle just stared, chewing on her lips nervously. “Well?” Lotor demanded, finding his patience was fast coming to an end. She reacted to the tone of his voice, bringing her lips to kiss the underside of his cock. “That’s better.” Lotor grumbled, feeling the hesitant kisses she placed on his length.
“Tongue….use your tongue…” Lotor said, then pulled out a half remembered Polluxian word, shouting at her. “Tongue, tongue!” He was calmed only slightly by her licking of him, Romelle’s tongue trailing upwards to lick at the head of his cock.
It wasn’t the best blow job he had ever had, in fact it was only memorable do to his exasperation with the slave. He found himself grumbling, tossing his wine glass onto the floor, it’s smash echoing in the room even as Romelle let out a surprised shout.
She couldn’t speak with his dick in her mouth, Lotor’s fingers entangled in her hair, the prince forcing her to down his length quick and deep. She looked bothered by the experience, Lotor letting out a pleased sigh at the warm wetness of her mouth. A second later he was moving her, forcing her head to bob up and down his length, Lotor letting a nasty snicker escape him at the pleasure she was providing him.
Her hands grabbed at his legs, Romelle’s fingers digging into his skin even with the barrier provided by the leather. She was making distressed noises, trying to pull back, Lotor gritting his teeth and mumbling angry words.
“You’re not….ngh…going anywhere until I’m finished with you.”
He was leaning forward now alternating the speeds in which her head bobbed. Sometimes he dragged it out with a slow and steady pace, moaning out loud at the tease she provided. Her face was practically buried in his lap, Lotor staring at the back of her head, looking at the blonde strands and moaning out a name. “Allura.”
The mention of the Arusian princess made Romelle squeal, an angry sound as she thrashed about, trying to hit his legs in a fit of tantrum. Lotor ignored her, feeling the tip of his cock hit the back of her throat, Romelle’s mouth leaving his cock slick with her saliva.
A timid knock sounded at the door, Lotor glancing upwards. “Enter!” He called out, never breaking stride in forcing Romelle’s head to move. The door opened, a guard ushering in the requested harem girl. It was Nubeya, another one of the slaves from a Polluxian providence, her blonde hair woven into numerous braids, that looped backwards into twin pigtails.
She was dressed in scarves, a veritable rainbow of colors, the flimsy see through material doing little to hide her body from him. She looked at the woman kneeling before him, her eyes growing wider as she recognized HER princess. But except for the hint of acknowledgment in her eyes, Nubeya didn’t say anything, keeping quiet about his rough treatment of Romelle.
“Ah Nubeya…” Lotor smiled at her, speaking in Drule. “Just the person I wanted to see. Come! Come!” He beckoned her closer, his own hips starting to move, Lotor thrusting into Romelle’s mouth. “I want you to watch this very carefully…”
Nubeya nodded, coming to kneel at his side, her eyes on Romelle. “Almost done….” Lotor grunted, picking up speed, hardly caring if he bruised Romelle’s throat. He glided back and forth with ease, feeling the tension building inside him. It tightened his balls, made his cock twitch, and then with one final stab forward, he was coming, Romelle all but shrieking as he filled her mouth with his come.
He held her in place, forcing her to swallow, feeling her shake with barely suppressed rage as she pushed at his thighs, desperate to escape. She nearly fell backwards when he abruptly let her go, drool and come hanging on the corners of her mouth.
“Now…Nubeya…” Lotor let out a sigh, leaning back in his seat. “Did you see what she did there?” At her nod, he was continuing, ignoring the enraged sounds Romelle was making as she used the back of her hand to wipe at her mouth. “I want you to tell her exactly what she did wrong….So she can learn to do better in the future.”
“Yes, Prince Lotor.” Nubeya said, then turned to look at Romelle. Her face kept on looking blank, showing no hint of her emotions as she began speaking in Polluxian. Lotor listened to the soothing sound of Nubeya’s voice, but his eyes were mocking as he looked at the angry Romelle.
The princess’s face was turning red, she looked positively murderous as she listened to Nubeya. The scarf clad slave lifted her hands, mimicking holding something before her lips. Romelle gritted her teeth, but paid attention, watching as Nubeya demonstrated the technique that Lotor so favored.
“Tell her she’s got a lot to learn.” Instructed Lotor, resting his chin on the palm of his hand. He was growing more and more amused by Romelle’s reactions, taking pleasure in her humiliation as Nubeya repeated her words. “Not just with her mouth. She may be enthusiastic, but she’s woefully lacking when it comes to bedroom skills.”
Romelle reacted as though he had slapped her, a sharp inhalation coming from her as she stared at Lotor in shock. Lotor just kept on smirking, his hand touching one of Nubeya’s braided pigtails, stroking the coarse hair. “Maybe you and me, later we can show her just how it’s done.”
“Yes, Prince Lotor.” Nubeya agreed, flashing him a dazzling smile. Romelle was stone faced, her hands curled into fists on her lap, staring straight ahead.
“Someone fetch me another drink.” Lotor ordered, Nubeya unhesitating as she rose to walk to the bar. No admonishments from her, no pointing out that he had had more than enough to drink. She simply did as he asked, service with a smile as she poured his favorite Tyrusian red wine.
He was snatching the goblet from her, wine splashing on his shirt, when another knock sounded at the door. Lotor snorted, lifting his head and mumbled, “That better be important.”
A gesture from him had Nubeya walking towards the door, her hips swinging in an enticing manner as she moved. Lotor paid more attention to her hips than the guard that was admitted into the room, barely noticing his agitation.
“What?” demanded Lotor, eyes still on Nubeya when the man spoke.
“Sire….there’s been….an accident in the harem!”
“An accident?” Lotor rolled his eyes, finding the news more troublesome than it was worth. “What kind of accident?”
“A girl has collapsed!” answered the guard, and Lotor sighed.
“I do hope this is not the sort of some kind of flu bug affecting my harem.” He was grumbling, barely registering any concern for the girl.
“She’s very sick your highness….” The guard continued, Lotor giving an uncaring shrug of his shoulders. “The doctors fear she won’t make it through the night.”
“Bother.” Lotor swore, and looked at the guard, seeing him for the first time since he entered the room. “And just who is this troublesome girl? Is it someone I’ll actually miss?”
The guard hesitated, and then was speaking a name, one that sent chills down Lotor’s spine. “It’s Allura, sir.”
“Allura?!” Lotor stood up, hearing Romelle let out a gasp. “Good Gods man! Why didn’t you tell me it was her immediately?!”
The guard shifted from foot to foot, looking nervous. “Tried to sir…”
“Run ahead to the med bay. Tell the doctors they have Prince Lotor’s permission to use any and every means possible to keep that slave alive!” Lotor said, hastily tucking himself inside his pants. The guard nodding, running out of the room even as Lotor zipped up his pants.
“Lotor?” Romelle’s voice, soft hesitant as she approached him. He glanced at her, seeing her shaking her head no.
“I’ve no time for you.” Lotor told her, letting out a growl when she grabbed his arm. She repeated his name, holding onto him as though she was trying to prevent him from leaving. A torrent of words poured out of her, Lotor only recognizing his and Allura’s names. He looked at Nubeya, the slave looking hesitant to translate.
“What is she saying?!”
“She says….you’re not really gonna leave her to go to Allura, are you?” translated Nubeya.
“I see.” Lotor yanked his arm free of Romelle’s hold, the girl making a desperate grab for his waist. He growled and pealed her off him, shoving her back to her knees. “What I do, and whom I see is none of your business.”
“Lotor!” Romelle grabbed onto his leg, being dragged forward as he moved. Her voice was urgent as she spoke, eyes pleading with him not to go.
“You mean nothing to me!” Lotor said, grabbing her hair, Romelle letting out a cry of pain. “I thought you understood that!” He glanced at Nubeya, and hissed out an order. “Make sure you tell her exactly what I am saying!”
“Yes, sire.” Nubeya bowed her head in agreement, her voice quick to translate the prince’s words. Romelle’s eyes widened, she tried to shake her head no, tears appearing in her eyes.
“You’ve been nothing but a diversion to me.” Continued Lotor, hearing her howl in rage at Nubeya’s translation. “And a bad one at that!” Romelle seemed to wilt, letting go of his leg to slump down on the floor. She openly wept, voice loud and grating on Lotor’s nerves as she let out her grief at hearing his words.
“What a fool I’ve been.” Lotor muttered, hands going to his hair, smoothing it away from his eyes. “I’ve wasted all this time with you when I could have been with Allura!” Nubeya was quick to relay his words to the Polluxian princess, Romelle’s eyes narrowing as she let out a vicious sounding scream. He heard the bottle hit the wall just to the side of his head, the glass smashing upon contact.
Lotor whipped around to see an enraged Romelle, Nubeya holding her back as best she could. Romelle was screaming, voice loud enough to draw the attention of the guards in the hall, the men peering into the room. She was struggling with Nubeya, another bottle in her hand, the slave keeping the princess from throwing it at Lotor.
“Want we should take care of this problem for you, sire?” A guard asked, flinching when the next bottle hit the door.
“Yes.” Lotor gave a brisk nod of his head. “Throw her in the dungeons for a few days. I suspect a lengthy stay in that dismal place will cool down that temper of hers. If not….” A cruel twisting of his lips. “There are other ways to break her sprit.”
“Yes Prince Lotor.” The guards moved past him into the room, Romelle’s shrieks growing louder, Nubeya’s pleas for mercy almost being drowned out by the princess’ screams. Lotor ignored it all, rushing down the hall, his only thoughts for Allura and her well being.