CHAPTER TWELVE

After flogging Cossack ten times for ruining his plans, Lotor dragged me down the narrow corridors. I dug in my heels, trying to pull free.

“Release me, you fiend!”

He turned to face me, his golden eyes vibrant with anger. “You’re not leaving this ship yet,” he stated with grim determination. “Not until I get some satisfaction from you.”

Panic pounded thought my veins, when I realized he was taking me to his chambers. My stomach heaved and I could barely control my nausea. Finally he opened the door and threw me onto the huge bed. Dazed, I watched him press a button on the control panel of the night table and the lights were turned on. What was I doing, lying here, and waiting for the worst to happen? I sat up and he suddenly grabbed a handful of my hair, yanking back my head, and forcing my gaze to meet his. I cried out and clawed at his hands.

“You’re going to pay for your brother’s mistake!”

“Let me go!” I cried, feeling tears well from my eyes as strands of hair tore from my scalp.

“Your father was very foolish to believe that he could conquer Arus and Doom using your brother,” he hissed.

“That’s a lie!”

“I heard about his plans, thanks to a transmission device implanted on Hagar’s Blue Cat.”

I gasped as he pulled my head so far back I thought my neck would snap. The revelation that my father had planned on also conquering Doom made me feel a relief that lasted but a moment.

“The Voltron Force will rescue me,” I retorted, without thinking.

His fist struck the side of my face, and I fell in a heap on the cold floor. I could feel a thin line of blood trickling from my mouth. I braced myself on my hands, trembling, trying to gather the strength to escape. There was no doubt in my mind that he was planning on ravishing me before reaching Arus.

He roughly seized me from behind, his hands clamping themselves around my upper arms. My instinctive struggles were short-lived; after a moment my head drooped down, and my eyes brimmed with tears.

“Please, Lotor,” I said hoarsely. “You’re are hurting me.”

He took a step forward, so that his body was pressed against my back. He snaked his left arm around my body, until it came to rest on my right shoulder, his forearm pressing lightly against my throat.

While his lips nibbled down the side of my neck, his right hand cupped my breast, lifting its fullness. I was so shocked that movement and speech seemed impossible. I felt my breasts swell and harden, the nipples like little pebbles even before he slid his hand inside my gown. A moan was heard, and I realized to my horror that it had come from my lips. I felt sickened, because it was impossible to ignore this method of arousal or hide the results.

“Relax, my sweet.” His breath warmed my ear as his sharp teeth nipped the lobe. His left arm dropped from my shoulder to my hip, pulling me intimately against his body, and I could feel his insistent masculinity as he molded me against his hard, lean length.

“Please, Lotor. Don’t…” I was so terrified, that several tears escaped my eyes. He slowly released me, backing away to permit me regain my composure. I started violently when, moments later, he again placed his hands on my arms, turning me around to face him.

He lowered his head again, his mouth touching my ear and cheek and finally my lips, stroking them seductively, and then lifting, only to descend and repeat the operation a second time. His arms stole around my body to hold me with a possessive firmness that repelled me. I went still, my chest struggling for air, my nose filling with his scent.

Moments later, he allowed the withdrawal and then holding me away from him and gazing down at me with amusement in his saffron eyes, he said, “Much better, Princess.”

“I hate you!”

He laughed in a low, hypnotic voice. “I did nothing you did not want me to do. I could feel your body responding to my touch.”

“Liar!”

“My hands felt so right upon you,” he said in a thick voice, and then pulled at my gown’s neckline. I felt nauseated. Unable to control myself, I disgorged the contents of my dinner on him. The vomit splattered and spilled down his blue tunic. Horrified, he stepped back, shouting curses that burned my ears.

“Bitch! You’ll pay dearly for this insult!”

He stormed out of the room and barked at the guard to lock the door and get him a clean uniform. I dashed after him, and raising my fists, pounded at the door, blind to anything except my escape from him. But nobody came to my rescue. A defeated sob ripped from my throat, and sitting down on the floor, I clutched my knees to my chest and wept.

Avok was gone, and there was nothing I could do about it. All of my skills were useless, and worse, I wished father had never asked Zarkon for help. I had been so naïve to believe in Lotor’s kindness. How could he have managed to lie so convincingly? Would he try to rape me again before arriving at Planet Arus?

“Father, Bandor,” I whispered, “Please come for me.”



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