Connections - klance

>>18<<

         

OOof, smutty rape alert. Sorry

Lance was broken. A couple of quintents had passed since he'd talked with the team and his papa, and their words still rung in his ears.

Are you really that surprised we don't want you here?

You're a quiznaking disgrace.

You killed your mother.

We're so much better off without you.

You're no son of mine.

Lance screamed, clapping his hands over his ears. He had to get the voices out, he had to make it stop. Galran attendants rushed to his bedside as he writhed on the mattress. They weakly attempted to hold him down as he thrashed about, clawing and biting and kicking.

He hurt.

He'd thought that Haggar had been bad, but after this? He'd gladly trade places with the past Lance; back when his only worry was how much blood he lost.

This was much worse. This was a ravenous monster clawing at his chest, threatening to rip him into pieces. This was a stabbing ache that flowed through his veins, curdling in his gut and making him sick. This was an irresistible urge to just end it all, hoping that he might find relief in another life. Or, even better, that there wouldn't be another life. That he could just stop existing. That singular thought was the only thing keeping him sane at this point. Maybe he could rest someday; letting the familiar darkness take him forever.

Finally calming down a little, he stopped thrashing on the bed. Galran attendants retreated, a couple of them bleeding from various bites or scratches.

"Lance, you have not been nearly as kind to my attendants lately," Lotor said. Lance jumped a little; he hadn't seen the prince enter the room.

"I'm afraid that I've let this go on for too long. You can't expect to behave poorly and get away without punishment," the prince continued. Lance didn't reply. He honestly didn't care what happened to him at this point. Let Lotor torture him. Maybe he'd accidentally take it too far, and then Lance could finally just die.

Warm breath tickled his ear, and he jerked away in surprise. Lotor was hovering above him, his eyes full of something... new. Something dangerous. Lance wasn't sure he liked this look.

"Lance... You really are beautiful." Lotor's voice was sickeningly sweet, making Lance's stomach twist.

"Don't... Don't say my n-name like that," he finally whispered, scooting away from the prince.

"Lance, there's no need to resist this. You know that I would never hurt you." The prince sat on the bed, reaching out to run his fingers through Lance's hair. Lance flinched, the touch sending painful shivers down his spine. Alarms blared in his mind, and he shoved Lotor's hand away.

"S-Stop." Lance was quivering now, leaning away from the unwelcome touches. Glancing around nervously, he realized that the Galran attendants had left the room. He was alone with Lotor.

"You don't like it when I say your name?" the prince pouted.

"N-not really," Lance replied, staring at his lap.

"I can call you something else. How about... Lancey? Lancey-Lance?" Lance shivered again, the words burning his ears.

"Lancey-Lance it is," the prince replied with a devilish grin. He brushed his fingers along Lance's arm, leaving burning traces along the skin.

Lance wrenched his arm out of Lotor's grip, huddling further away. The prince only slid closer, resting a hand on Lance's knee. He slowly ran his hand up Lance's thigh, reaching with his other hand to grab Lance's arm.

"S-Stop it," Lance said, looking away. He was crying now. When had he started crying?

"Lancey-Lance," the prince purred, leaning even closer. "You know you want this." Lance shook his head vigorously. Lotor's right hand had moved up from his thigh, lightly massaging him through the robe. His breath hitched, bile rising in his throat.

The prince's left hand reached up from his arm, grasping Lance's chin coarsely.

Before Lance could react, Lotor thrust his mouth forward, kissing him roughly. Lance kept his lips shut tight, trying to break out of the prince's grasp.

He was too strong.

Lotor's tongue found its way into his mouth, and he gagged at the foreign feeling.

His member was hard, reacting to the touch against his will.

He felt fingers in his opening, and he shuddered again, shaking with sobs.

Lotor's hands were everywhere, massaging, caressing, squeezing, pinching—

He felt a sudden burst of pain as Lotor entered him forcefully.

"S-stop," he said again, twisting away from the kiss. Tears were streaming down his face.

Lotor didn't stop, thrusting painfully. Lance cried out, trying to wrench himself out of Lotor's grip. The prince was so strong.

"You like that? Does that make you feel good? Lance... you're so beautiful." The prince panted, his eyes clouded. Lance shut his eyes tightly, hot tears burning his skin. Every thrust brought shooting pain, and he couldn't stop his loud yelp as Lotor suddenly sped up.

Hot fluid filled him, seeping out onto the bed. Lotor sagged above him, panting heavily. Lance could only lay on the bed, shaking with silent sobs.

Leaning back, Lotor studied him with satisfaction.

"I hope you'll be kinder to my attendants in the future, Lance. Now you know what can happen when you disobey my orders."

Lance didn't reply, staring at the ceiling. He couldn't look down. He didn't dare look at the damage. What was once his now belonged to someone else... belonged to Lotor.

"Lancey-Lance? Did you hear what I said?"

Lance shuddered at the words. "Y-Yes," he finally whimpered, refusing to look at anything but the ceiling above him.

"Good. On a happier note, I've decided to start letting you out of this room more often. As long as you're good, I'll allow you to accompany me to political functions. The universe deserves to see how beautiful you are."

Lance heard Lotor leave the room, the door sliding closed behind him.

Slowly, he forced his gaze downward.

White liquid streaked with blood covered the mattress, oozing out of his spread legs. His member was still hard, liquid dripping out of the tip. His scarred legs shook, and he slowly lowered them onto the bed.

It hurt to move. It hurt to... to think. He closed his eyes, drowning out the painful memories. The event kept replaying in his mind. Lotor's hands. His tongue. Everywhere. All over him. Covering him. Staining his skin.

Lance's body wasn't his own anymore. Haggar had stolen whatever pride he had once had in the way he looked, leaving scars across his skin. Now Lotor had left his own scars; invisible ones. These ones felt almost worse. They were harder to heal. Harder to ignore. Harder to forget.

---

Hours later, Lance's eyes were dry. He had stopped crying much earlier, the tears simply... stopping. His mind was filled with a stagnant buzz, a pure monotonous bliss. He realized that he should probably be feeling something, but no emotions presented themselves. Maybe this was better; this painless blur.

Lance decided at that moment that he would do what Lotor wanted. Anything to avoid the churning emotion that had plagued him hours before. Anything at all. Because at this point?

Lance had absolutely nothing left.

(1196 Words)

Sorry it's long, folks