The night of Lotor’s frantic destruction of his mother’s bedroom seemed to change things between them, a chasm opening up between Adaline and her son. It pained her to admit this, but the boy had changed, to the point he was angry and sullen most of the time. She didn’t know how to reach him, and Lotor seemed not to want her help, leaving Adaline frustrated and sad.
His time was often busy with school or his father’s horrific lessons, leaving Lotor with little time to be the child that he was. He often returned to Adaline weary to the point of collapse, the boy struggling to remain awake in the hours until bed time. He almost never had the energy to play with Allura, merely sitting there quiet, a distant look to his eyes.
At least he didn’t bicker with the child, most days passing by peacefully enough in their rooms. Adaline would never know what had caused Lotor to react in such a violent manner in response to Allura’s attempts to get him to talk, but thankfully he never repeated the behavior. She almost wished he did, thinking perhaps expressed anger would be better than the quiet existing Lotor seemed to do.
Lotor never talked about the lessons his father made him endure, not even when he came back bloody and dirty, fresh wounds opened along his arms and legs. He merely endured her attentions, allowing his mother to clean and care for his wounds. And soon not even that was left between them, the boy now ten, declaring himself old enough to bathe himself.
Of course Adaline knew what was going on. Her husband simply wouldn’t allow her to remain in ignorance, the man taking pleasure at the upset he knew the information would cause her. Zarkon often called her into his chambers, and sometimes he was as bloody as Lotor, covered in sweat and reeking of self satisfaction. He watched her face as he talked, his eagle sharp eyes not missing one moment of her reactions.
Today was one of those days, Adaline standing present before a blood soaked Zarkon. He practically purred with his satisfaction, the man’s eyes glittering with a cruel light as he stood before her, talking. “The boy has finally moved on from killing harmless animals.” He said, watching as Adaline worked to unbutton his sash. “The robeasts are small, but I don’t doubt that in time he’ll be able to fight off the larger ones.”
Her hands shook, betraying her upset as she worked to disrobe him, the red sash falling to the floor. The dried blood made an odd contrast on the bold red of his sash, and didn’t even show up on the black vest he wore beneath it. She began working open the vest’s fastenings, spying jagged scars that had long since healed over on his chest.
“You should have seem him today Adaline.” Zarkon continued. “We no longer need slaves to hold down the monsters. He goes willingly to fight them, our son absolutely vicious with his attacks.”
She was without comment, sliding the vest down his well muscled arms. There were fresh cuts there, nicks from Lotor’s sword, a result of the boy getting better at fighting his father. These days he could actually sneak past his father’s defense, landing small blows across his body. Zarkon was not bothered by this, actually proud, taking this as proof that their son was becoming better at fighting with the sword.
“The robeasts my witches create are no idle slouches when it comes to blood sport.” Adaline unbuckled his belt, slow in her movements to slide it free of his pants. “These are no harmless creatures from human settlements, but vicious predators, well learned in killing to survive.” A laugh then, Zarkon absolutely delighted with his son. “And Lotor bests them all!”
Of course the winning was not without it’s price, the boy often coming away injured in some manner. Sometimes it was minor wounds, and sometimes the injuries were so great as to lay him in bed for days or weeks. Adaline was conscious that all it took was one mistake, one act of hesitation and a well timed blow could end her son’s life.
“If his progress continues, he’ll soon be fit for the arena!” Adaline’s fingers had paused, the woman hesitant to undo her husband’s pants. “Adaline, no need for girlhood shyness. You’ve seen it all before.” He bumped his covered groin against her hand, the bulge slight but there, hinting at the arousal he was getting off detailing Lotors’ exploits.
She jerked back her hand as though it burned, Zarkon’s laughter resounding in her ears. She was angry with herself, and with him, Adaline thinking she had done well in maintaining her cool. Now with one knee jerk reaction it all crumbled, the man well aware of how bothered she was by touching him. With an in drawn hiss of breath, Adaline all but jerked open the fastening of his pants, his cock swelling out into the opening. She ignored that eager flesh, shoving his pants down to the floor where it
caught on his boots.
“The boots now Adaline.” Zarkon told her, his helpful tone a mockery that made her damn him. Her husband made no move to sit on the edge of the tub, forcing her to drop to her knees before him. His hardening flesh wagged before her face, his arousal increasing though she tried not to look at it.
Instead Adaline focused on unlacing his boots, her actions as hurried as she dared. She did not want to risk his displeasure in carelessly snapping the strings, Adaline wondering why he couldn’t be satisfied in having his slaves help him in this manner.
The boot pulled free of his foot, Adaline starting on the other. Zarkon’s gaze weighed heavily on her, the man pausing to enjoy the view of her subservience to him. “Think of the crowds Lotor will draw in!” Zarkon continued, kicking off his pants. “All of Doom will pay a pretty penny to come see their prince in action!”
“You’ll waste his potential in the arena.” Adaline said, staying on her knees as Zarkon turned away from her.
“Bah!” He waved a dismissive hand. “What do you know of his potential? He’s wasted around you and that girl!” He climbed into the tub without her assistance, water splashing over the sides as he settled himself down into it’s wet embrace.
“He’s not.” Adaline insisted, and Zarkon snorted.
“And just what sort of future would you see for him if left free to do as you please?” He leaned back against the rear of the tub, closing his eyes as a content sound left him. “No doubt a peacemaker, a painter, something simple, something unworthy of a Drule. Hmph. As if someone of my blood would ever be content with that sort of life!”
“He was.” Adaline said quietly, Zarkon cocking an eye open at that. “Once he was content….once he was happy with the ways things were.”
“Yes, before I came and saved him from all that!” He lifted an arm, hand extending in her direction as he crooked a finger to her. It was an invitation she could not refuse, Adaline rising to her feet, and walking slowly towards him. “Admit it Adaline, the boy’s soul was suffering under your guidance.”
“I will admit no such thing!” She retorted, perching on the edge of the wet tub. The water dampened her fine dress, Adaline reaching for a bar of soap and a wash cloth. She soaped up the fabric, her actions as furious as her anger.
“I never took you for a sore loser Adaline.” Zarkon grumbled, watching her as she began to scrub at his chest with the cloth.
“And I suppose you would be the more gracious loser?” She shot back with a frown.
“Of course not! I do so hate to lose!” Zarkon grinned now. “It’s why I make sure that no matter what, no matter how long it takes, I always win. Just look at Arus as an example for that!”
“I’d rather not.” She demurred, not wanting to think about the destruction Zarkon’s people had done to her home world. They had all but reduced the people living there back to the stone age, the comforts of modern living barred to the humans enslaved there. The Drule meanwhile lived in comfort, letting the humans work themselves to death, mining minerals and building factories, or working the farm land to feed the Doom Empire.
“Such evil…” Adaline murmured, Zarkon tossing back his head to laugh uproariously. She glared at him, the king giving her a cruel smirk.
“It is necessary. That evil you speak of keeps my people alive and comfortable.”
“You take more than you need, you always had, you always will.” She retorted to him, wincing when he grabbed a hold of her wrist.
“So quick to drip disdain when my greedy Drule nature is what has allowed you to live in comfort all these years!” Zarkon told her, eyes gleaming satisfaction at her outraged hiss.
“I never asked you for those comforts! I would have been glad to have lived as a slave, rather than be your spoiled pet!”
“Now that’s a lie if ever I heard one from you.” Zarkon retorted. “You wouldn’t have lasted one minute as a slave in the mines. Face it Adaline, I saved you…not only that, I made your life far better than it could ever possibly be.”
She gaped at him, thinking him insane. “You think money makes it okay, the abuse you have given me, given my son? Given Allura?!” He grunted, and forced her hand back to his chest, growling at a demand that she continue to wash him. She did so but unwillingly, hand scrubbing harder in an attempt to hurt him.
Zarkon was quiet for a few minutes, just studying her as Adaline worked at the task he had given her. “It wasn’t all bad, was it?”
“Every single, wretched moment!” She hissed in reply. “You’ve given me nothing but pain, nothing but horrors and nightmares!” She was perhaps exposing more of her pain then she should, but at the moment Adaline didn’t care, wanting him to understand the wrong he had done to her.
“Nothing? How soon you forget the son I gave you.”
“The son you took from me!” She pointed out, tempted to throw the wash cloth at his face. “You may be turning him into your ideal of a Drule, but at the cost of the bond between mother and son!”
“Such sacrifices must be made.” Replied Zarkon, and cocked an eyebrow at her. “You’re not done cleaning me.”
“I’m done for the day!” Adaline announced, and move to stand up. Zarkon snagged a handful of her hair, jerking on it cruelly. “You will stay and see to my bath, all of it.” She couldn’t move without tearing out a huge hank of her hair, Adaline wondering if the pain would be worth it. “Fine.” She gritted out through clenched teeth, allowing herself to be guided back down to the tub’s edge. Only then was Zarkon satisfied, letting go of her hair, and actually stroking wet fingers down the small of her back.
The touch triggered her revulsion, Adaline picking up the cloth, and skimming it over his arms. He closed his eyes, and began speaking once more, ready to horrify her anew with talk of his plans for their son.
“The time will come soon enough…” He began, Adaline peeking at him through her eyelashes. “For our son to attend court.”
“NO!” She gasped out in loud protest, Zarkon smiling though he kept his eyes closed.
“Yes. I’ve put it off long enough.” He shifted a little, water splashing her at his movements. She busied herself cleaning his hands, loathe to touch him below the waist.
“He’s not ready.” Adaline said, truly believing that with every ounce of her being.
“If he’s not, I’ll MAKE him ready.” His words were foreboding, Adaline fearing what he would do next. “He will not be humiliating me in front of my court.” A smile then, which meant he had thought of something that was pleasing in it’s cruelties. “We’ll have to prepare him for the amusements of the court.”
“We?” She asked suspiciously, wanting no part in this preparation her husband spoke of.
“I think a trip to the dungeons is in order.” Zarkon continued as though Adaline had not spoken. “Yes…” He hissed, grabbing at her hand once more. She fought him, Zarkon jerking it down beneath the water, forcing her hand to brush against his eager manhood. She felt sicken by his arousal, but even more so by his words, the man purring happily. “I think a private showing is best…to get him used to the sights, sounds, and smells of the kind of things he will see at my court.”
“Don’t do this…” Adaline whispered, and Zarkon opened his eyes, staring at her.
“I’ve put it off long enough don’t you think? Besides…” A snort then, Zarkon forcing her hand to rub against his sex. “If I ask you, you’d never find him ready.”
“He’s just a boy…”
“A boy cannot remain one forever Adaline.” Zarkon pointed out, his tone sounding so reasonable. “And children always did grow up faster among the Drule.” He let out a grunt, a half moan of pleasure in response to her hand’s forced movements. She could see the lust taking root in his eyes, Zarkon gazing with desire at her. She tried to keep her upset off her face, knowing it would only serve as an aphrodisiac to his appetite for her.
“Too fast…” She was sad, thinking of both her son and of Allura.
“He’s never killed a person…yet…” Zarkon said, tone thoughtful. “I’ll have to prepare him for that…it’s one thing to kill those mindless beasts and monsters that populate the arena. New lessons need to be learned, the boy has to be able to look them in their eyes and ignore their pleading, their cries for mercy.”
“It won’t come easy for him…” She warned him, dreading the thought of her son becoming so complete a murderer.
“With Lotor nothing ever is.” Zarkon agreed. He gave a sudden jerk on her hand, knocking her into the tub with him. Amidst Adaline’s angry screeches, Zarkon laughed, hugging her against him, his hands going under her skirts. He was in so randy a mood, he didn’t even want to wait to get dry, quick to take advantage of her nearness even as she cursed and damned him.