Bad 02

Allura spent the remainder of the day almost in a haze, her thoughts returning to Prince Lotor and what his appearance on Arus meant for her planet and the war between their worlds. Certainly he made things more interesting for the Voltron Force, his nearly five thousand ships easily able to hold back the lions. The Voltron Force had made a valiant effort, going out almost immediately to test their mettle against Lotor’s fleet. Some two hundred ships lent support to the lions, but it had been laughable how small Arus’ military was in comparison to Doom’s.

It was no surprise that they had been overwhelmed many of Arus’ ships shot down and simply destroyed mid air. Doom never pressed it’s advantage though, simply defending against the attacks launched by Arus. There was a great deal of speculation over why Lotor had held his men back, and none of the people inside the castle believed for one-second it had to do with the prince’s honor.

In fact, if one was to listen to Keith and the other members of the Voltron Force, Lotor had no honor. He was a Drule after all, a race of beings known for their dirty dealings, their blood lust for battle, and their greed for more of everything. There was another aspect to the Drules, one the boys weren’t commenting on very much. Allura supposed they meant to protect her, to keep her from being scandalized at even the merest whisper of the Drule’s voracious sexual appetites. The boys and her Nanny, would surely be the ones scandalized if they even suspected Allura knew all about the Drules and their appreciation for sex. Always one to study up on her enemies, Allura had dedicated herself to learning what she could about the Drules. Their nature, their culture, their interests. It was fascinating, and Allura had even managed to get her hands on a novel where a young woman became the plaything of a Drule master.

She didn’t know how much of that novel was fiction rather than fact, but ever since seeing Lotor, Allura had been itching to make confirmations. Even as the Voltron force and her Nanny condemned Lotor for even existing, Allura had been daydreaming. Fantasizing about the handsome prince, and wondering if he was anywhere as bad as his king, Zarkon. She didn’t think so. This Lotor had some kind of honor, offering them the chance to peacefully surrender. He hadn’t even used their resistance to blow them and the castle apart, instead using only enough force to push back the lions.

Allura wasn’t sure how they were going to come away with a win against a fleet that was nearly five thousand ships strong. Not without aid from the Galaxy Alliance. Coran continued to try to get through the frequency that was disrupting their transmissions, desperate to get a message for help out to the Alliance. The pilot of green lion, Pidge worked tirelessly at coming up with a solution that would override the disruption even temporarily. So far it didn’t look good, but Allura refused to give up hope. She HAD to believe all would work out. That Arus would win once more, with nothing more than some bruising to their confidence. But more than that, she refused to believe fate to be so cruel, as to finally deliver to her a worthy opponent, and not allow Allura the chance for further dealings with him.

She wanted that chance. Wanted it more than anything else she had ever desired. She had waited years for her own rival, for a man who was not only her equal, but a man who would match her move per calculated move. She had longed for an enemy, for a man that was both dangerous and predatory, holding a raw sensuality to him even as he ruthlessly pursued his evil ambitions against her world. Allura had in fact wanted a beloved nemesis, a man who would come to desire her as much as the world she ruled over. She wanted to be the obsession of such a man, wanted him to pursue her with the same ruthless zeal as the Drules chased after her planet. Allura wanted to be wanted, to drive such a man insane with the lengths needed to possess her completely.

That Lotor was good looking hadn’t hurt. Allura could easily see herself with him whereas Zarkon, for all his power and lack of mercies, had simply turned Allura’s stomach. Her skin had actually crawled at every leer the Drule King had given her, Allura feeling unclean by his offers to spare her planet in turn for her hand. His whispered seductions had been grotesque, Allura blanching at the mere idea of ever allowing Zarkon to touch her.

She didn’t want Zarkon to so much as look at her, while Allura had reveled in the insolent look over Lotor had given her and her body. She knew, just knew, it would be no hardship to endure Lotor’s own brand of seduction. Her own blood thrilled at the mere thought of it, Allura wondering just what it would be like to finally be with a man. To be with Lotor, the man holding enough of the Drule’s notorious cruelty as to be unyielding to any pleas she might make.

Shivering, Allura kept a loose grip on the book she was holding. But it’s pages, and the steamy, torrid affair described inside it, could no longer hold her attention. Not with thoughts of Lotor running rampant in her mind. Allura didn’t just think about that all too brief conversation she had had with him. She imagined the future, the possibilities of further encounters. The excitement and yes the danger of him, the thrill of being pursued, and maybe even allowing herself to be caught on occasion.

Allura couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like, to be caught, briefly, by Lotor. To be held in his strong, inescapable embrace. To be face to face with him, that insolent gaze raking her over, seconds before that sensual looking mouth covered hers. Allura made a loud sound, just the latest in any number of numerous sighs, before attempting to shake herself free of the fantasy.

It wasn’t right, it wasn’t proper. Now simply wasn’t the time to be fantasizing about the crown prince of Doom. Not when her planet was on the verge of a successful invasion, the castle of lions surrounded, the lions and the royal military outnumbered by Lotor’s thousands of ships. It was as dire a situation as Arus had ever faced since the space explorers had come and revived the mighty defender, Voltron.

Allura knew she shouldn’t be thinking about anything but the upcoming fight tomorrow. She shouldn’t even be thinking about how dire the situation truly was, everything hinging on a miracle for Arus to win. No one truly expected even the lions to be able to defeat close to five thousand enemy ships, such odds were impossibly against Arus’ favor. They WERE going to lose, unless Pidge found a way, even temporarily, to break through Doom’s jamming signal, and contact the Alliance for help.

It didn’t look good for the peace loving Arusians, Allura recognized and understood that by tomorrow night, she might very well end up a prisoner of Prince Lotor’s. A shiver of pure delight, dark and entirely unwholesome went through her, Allura stepping towards the large, panoramic window of her bedroom. Some distance away from the castle, just far enough to be out of reach of the turret mounted lasers, was the surrounding Doom fleet. One of those ships held the prince, and if they could identify which one it was, they might be able to shoot it down and end the fight before it truly got underway.

Allura rebelled at such a thought, not wanting that, needing almost desperately for the prince of Doom to be okay. Knowing it couldn’t end like this for them, before they had even had a chance to truly match wits against one another. She was looking forward to months, YEARS of future encounters, stimulating both her mind and her passion, her need for forbidden thrills. It wasn’t always a need she wanted to think about, Allura partially disturbed by how she had reacted to the mere thought of ending up Lotor’s prisoner. But her mind drifted once more, Allura touching the glass as her eyes lost their focus. Thinking about that one book, where the woman had been a Drule’s play thing. Wondering and not wholly objecting to the idea of becoming Lotor’s own toy, Allura shivering once more, a wicked sensation coursing through her.

She really should go to bed, but Allura’s was restless. Her mind unable to relax, let alone shut down for the night. If she did somehow sleep, Allura knew she would dream of Lotor. Dream of the forbidden, the exciting, the darkly sexual and downright dangerous encounters she expected to have with him. Her mind was all too quick to come up with scenarios, Allura having read far too many trashy romance novels to be completely innocent of such things.

It didn’t feel right to lose herself to such fantasies, not tonight, not when Arus was almost lost. Tomorrow, if they survived, if they somehow won and pushed back Lotor’s fleet, then….then she could fantasize.

Shoulders slumping, Allura turned away from the window. She wasn’t going to get into bed. Not now. Not when her mind would immediately sink into thoughts of Lotor, of steamy embraces, and the way a bed was truly meant to be used. Instead she was intent on looking through her computer, to go over documents that detailed some of the tactics and battle plans the lions sometimes used. The study would do Allura and her planet good, Arus needing blue lion to be at it’s top performance during the battle tomorrow.

She’d never get that far, hearing the thumping sound of something landing on the sill of her window. Allura immediately turned, her eyes widening as she saw a shadowy figure pulling open her window. She couldn’t see the ship this figure had to have been on, but then a cloaking device would explain how it had gotten so near, and so soundlessly too.

Sure the silent intruder alarm that monitored her bedroom, would have triggered, Allura still inhaled to scream. The shadowy figure was already inside her room, rushing towards her, a hand clamping over her mouth before she could get out more than a sound. She nearly choked on her own scream, the sound muffled against the intruder’s hand. Already his other arm was going around her, pulling her against a muscled chest, and then Allura remember to struggle.

Heart beating wildly in her chest, Allura kicked and flailed, her arms and legs moving. Trying to score any blow that she could against the figure, and the man easily evading them all. The hand stayed on her mouth, another grabbing hold of her wrists. Somehow their legs tangled together, Allura falling backwards, landing winded on the floor. The man was on top of her, Allura gasping, trying to scream again.

“Quiet!” The man snapped, his voice vaguely familiar to her. It couldn’t be, she refused to hope for that much. But his voice had a Drule accent, and there was few of that race she knew well enough to know by sound alone, their voice. It definitely wasn’t Zarkon, or Yurak and it certainly wasn’t Haggar the Witch. That left only one other, Allura sure her eyes were turning hopeful as she made a muffled squeak of sound.

“Lotor?!”

He couldn’t possibly understand, her words distorted by his hand. Allura stared up at the feline eyes that were so beautiful a golden color, her heart racing for a different reason. Hoping, wanting, needing it to be Prince Lotor, and thrilling at the danger and the excitement that went with it, to have the crown heir of Doom in her bedroom, on top of her.

“Princess Allura, I am going to remove my hand from your mouth.” The voice was all silky seduction, even as it issued a threat. “Do NOT scream unless you want to be responsible for the loss of many lives.”

“I won’t.” She said, though her words were still muffled by his hand. Those gold gleaming eyes stared down at her, and Allura remembered that Drules could see better in the dark than a human could ever hope to. She hoped he liked what he saw, that Lotor would come away with the sense that she would behave in this regard. The innocent, earnest look she gave him must have satisfied something, for he removed his hand.

“Now…” He started to say, and went silent when Allura lifted a freed hand to his hair. She was tentative at first, merely touching to feel for it’s length. When she deemed it long enough to be HIS, she sighed, happily stroking her fingers through the silk like strands.

Lotor, and she was sure it was him, had gone still as a statue, staring down at her with a shocked look in his eyes. Immediately she colored, embarrassed and snatching her hand back.

“It is you.” She said out loud, trying to sound composed. “I can tell by the length of your hair.” A slow blink of his eyes, the shock fading away. Allura couldn’t keep quiet, though she tried her best to not outright babble. “It’s too long to be anyone else, it’s not the standard buzz cut all Doom soldiers sport.”

He still said nothing, didn’t so much as shift off of her. Allura could feel his weight on her, his body cradled by her spread thighs. Her face heated even further, Allura sure she was as pink as her nightgown now. But she didn’t try to fight, didn’t try to push Lotor off of her, instead just talking to him. Her voice had taken on a breathless quality to it, her chest heaving noticeably.

“I know, I know…” She breathlessly spoke. “It’s not a thing you expect a human to notice. But its not often I….we see Drules who look like you. Someone handsome enough…” She winced then, her blush surely increasing. “To stand out. But for the most part, all the Drule soldiers look the same, same hair cuts, same uniforms, same helmets….if it wasn’t for the fact that some are lighter colored than others, we’d think you were cloning your army men.”

“Do you ever stop talking?” Lotor finally spoke. She couldn’t tell if he was amused or not, Allura mortified that she had been reduced to babbling after all.

“Sometimes.” She said in answer. “It depends. I don’t often have strange men breaking into my bedroom.”

“I find that hard to believe.” Came his murmur. Allura didn’t miss a beat, continuing to babble at him.

“Let alone one that is from an enemy planet!” She paused, taking in a much needed breath, before barreling forward. “Why are you here?”

It was foolish, it was insane, but Allura found herself wishing Lotor would say he had come solely for her. She practically held her breath now, waiting for his answer, trying to keep from looking too excited, too damn hopeful.

“I thought we could discuss an end to this fighting between our worlds.”

Disappointment all but audible in the breath she let out, Allura spoke. “You could have, SHOULD have contacted me through official channels then.”

“Such negotiations would take months.” Lotor pointed out. “Why bother when we could skip right to resolving this conflict, peacefully and with a substantial saving of lives on both sides now.”

“I wouldn’t expect the Drule to care about the loss of lives.” She hastily corrected herself. “At least….not the lives of their enemies.”

“We’re not in a habit of wiping out a race completely.” Lotor told her. “We much prefer slaves to corpses.”

Allura shivered then, and the feeling wasn’t entirely pleasant. “Your people do like their slaves….” She muttered out loud. “But Arus isn’t about to surrender to you that easily.”

“So you’d rather die than become my slave?” Lotor asked in total disbelief.

Another skip of her heart beat, Allura flustered. “YOUR slave?” She asked sharply, blushing further. Thoughts of that book, of the Drule master human slave relationship came unbidden to her mind. Allura very much wanted to know if it, if the sex, was entirely fiction, or if there was some truth to it all. “And do you keep many…? Slaves that is?”

“Hundreds.” Lotor answered. “If not thousands.”

Allura practically deflated, infinitely disappointed. She didn’t want to be a slave, let alone one of a thousand, as meaningless as the next. She wanted to matter, she wanted to be something important to this Drule.

And yet her mind couldn’t stop wandering into naughty territories, Allura blushing and unable to stop herself. “And what do you do with your slaves?”

“Which ones?” Lotor asked, and Allura blurted out the following.

“The bedroom ones….”

His eyes took on a very interested look, the prince practically purring. “Why Princess Allura. I had no idea you had an interest in such things.”

She blushed furiously, her face, her skin, her whole body too hot. Worse yet, she was far too aware of him, of the heat of his body, the feel of Lotor pressed so intimately against her. She didn’t know how to shift him off her, didn’t know how to even attempt such a thing without rubbing her groin against his. Her nightgown suddenly felt too thin, the fabric a flimsy barrier between her and him. It strained across her chest, feeling too tight, her breasts too heavy, too needy as her nipples began to ache.

He was waiting for her reply, but Allura found she couldn’t speak. His eyes glinted with amusement, but darker yet was the predatory sheen to them. She couldn’t see his face, but felt the ends of his hair touch her one cheek, the prince having lowered his face near to hers.

“Shall I tell you, or shall I show you?”

“Show me?!” Allura exclaimed in shock, but the prince took it as a command. He chuckled, fingers tangling in her hair, holding her still for a struggle she did not give him. Her heart beat even more erratic, Allura staring into his eyes. He went painstakingly slow, teasing her, giving her the chance to change her mind. Allura couldn’t even if she wanted too, becoming prey that was fascinated by her impending doom.

By the time his lips actually touched hers, Allura had it all played out in her mind. Her slow surrender, her yielding to his masterful touch. She forgot completely that this was partially a controlled situation, that the intruder alarm had to have signaled someone in the control room by now. That help would be coming sooner or later, that she would be rescued from a fate Nanny would insist was worse than death.

Allura closed her eyes, surrendering herself completely to the prince’s kiss. She couldn’t stop the tremble of her body, but the shaking had little to do with true fear. She was more excited than anything, thinking of her books, and realizing a real kiss was infinitely better than anything printed on a page.

Especially when the kiss had experience to it, Lotor’s lips tasting her own. Allura wanted to moan, parting her lips eagerly for him. Savoring the feel of his mouth on hers, the sudden thrust of his tongue into her unresisting mouth. The wet, velvet muscle touched hers, Allura shivering anew. She didn’t truly know how to kiss, but Lotor was skilled enough to make up for her inexpertise.

It didn’t mean she just lay there, limp like a cold fish. She was just the opposite, rising up, pressing against him, her thighs squeezing around his body. A small sound escaped the back of her throat, Allura putting her hands on Lotor’s body. Now he made a sound, some guttural moan that was more animalistic growl than anything a human could make. His kiss became rougher, but no less masterful, Allura making a low keening sound as he pinned her down against the floor.

Her sounds continued, Allura moving, trying to arch against him. Lotor was moving too, their groins touching, rubbing together as Allura felt the hard ridge of him grinding insistently against her womanly softness. New, entirely too pleasant sensations coursed through her, Allura almost afraid, feeling a dampness start to flood her core center. Her eyes had closed, Allura whining, the kiss, the rubbing grinding motions making her wild and inhibition free. Her hands were moving all over his back, feeling the muscles bunching up beneath her finger tips. She wanted his tunic off, wanted to feel his skin directly, but Lotor was grabbing at her wrists, holding them above her head now.

Allura panted as he kissed the corner of her mouth, the young princess trying desperately to regain at least her breath. Her senses had all but fled, Allura not sure of anything but how right the moment felt.

“Mo…re…” She started to say, ready to give him everything, ready to hand over the entirety of her very being for more of the sensations he stirred within her. Her books hadn’t prepared her for anything like this, she was defenseless against the passion, the intensity of the real thing.

His mouth, his body, covering hers, his kiss consuming, their groins rubbing drowning her in a frenzy of pleasure, Allura moaned. And then reality came crashing in, the lights snapping on with near violent force, the door to her bedroom opening as several armed guards rushed in, followed by Keith and Nanny.


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