Disclaimer: I do not own Voltron/Go Lion or any of their characters. They are the property of WEP and Devil's Due Comic and Toei Animation. All other characters are mine. This is written purely for entertainment purposes and I am not monetarily compensated in any way.

A/N: Thank all of you who have fav'd and followed. I was unsure of whether or not I was going to continue this story. It was really only a "what if"scenario that my muse would stop playing with during the writing of a larger story I have yet to post here with a different arc. But I she and I decided that a few more chapters are in order to fully explore what it means to be 'Bound'.

That being said, this story is going to have trigger material and non-con reluctance. IF YOU KNOW THAT THESE TOPICS MAY BE TRIGGERING TO YOU, OR YOU ARE OFFENDED BY SUCH TOPICS DO NOT READ.


Chapter 4

When Allura awoke she was alone in the bed and her hands were loose from their bonds. She didn't remember falling asleep. Or being untied. She rubbed the sleep from her eyes and looked around blearily. She was still in Lotor's stateroom, further confirming that she wasn't having a nightmare she was living one. She sat up and grimaced as she felt a soreness in her nether regions, a painful reminder of the events of previous night. He had taken her a second time and then a third with none of the attempts at seduction of her deflowering. A taste of what he could have done instead-how he could have- She shuddered as she remembered those painful thrusts inside her. If he had meant for her to think it was worse he was wrong. She cringed in shame at the memory of the feel of his hands on her and her body's primal response to his caresses and lurid taunts, What do they call women who enjoy this, Allura? Whore? Slut?

She was still naked and she clutched the red damask duvet to her chest, wincing and shifting uncomfortably once more. She looked around the room, noting more details about than she had the previous evening. It was decorated with neutral colors and expensive wood paneling. The bed was on a raised platform in its own alcove separate from what she could see of the rest of the suite. The side tables were designed with clean, elegant straight lines in the same dark lacquered gnarly wood as the headboard. She noticed one of the whorls was in the shape of a dragonfly and frowned in distaste as she recognized the wood of the carnivorous onat tree. Of course Lotor would like it; it was ridiculously expensive and creepy as hell.

She heard footsteps and looked to the source of the sound bracing, expecting to see Lotor stalking over to her, smirking and ready to begin a new round of assaults on her body. But instead, she was surprised to see the servant she had kicked in the chest from the night before approaching her with a tray bearing a smallish, painted china sphere. The female Drule stared at her boldly, raising an eyebrow as she assessed Allura's disheveled appearance, before assuming an expressionless mask. Allura blushed and looked down.

"Good morning, Princess." She said in heavily accented Common and set the tray down on the bedside table. "Do you want to take refreshment or do you need to attend yourself?"

For a moment Allura was confused, and looked from the woman to the tray before she understood the meaning of the servant's question. "I want a bath. A very hot bath," she answered, also in the common language.

"As you command." The servant nodded, her face still blank. Allura stared after her. As you command, the servant had said. So, at least I am to be treated as befits my station, Allura thought.

A moment later, the woman returned, offering Allura a sumptuously embroidered red silk robe with a soft cashmere-like lining. For a moment Allura just stared at it, and clutched the sheet tighter to her chest, reluctant to cast it aside and step naked from the bed. After a moment of awkward silence Allura finally said, "Please, just give it to me."

Bowing slightly, the women handed her the robe and Allura shrugged into it, holding it closed as she tossed the bed covers aside and swung her legs over, hopping a bit to the ground. As she turned to tie the belt closed she saw her virgin's blood staining the white sheets and she blushed to the roots of her hair, mortified.

If the servant noticed she gave no sign, "Come, this way." She said and walked ahead. Allura followed, barefoot, moving stiffly at first as the ache between her thighs seemed to increase as she walked.

The suite was smaller than Allura expected, surely, she thought that Lotor would have had more more spacious royal apartments than this. These were not even as large her own in the Castle of Lions. But small as they might be, the sleek, elegant style she had noticed in the bedroom continued throughout with straight lines, clean edges and a distinctive lack of clutter. The only ornamentation seemed to be the cream, black and red intaglio floral patterns inlaid on the wood floors. This... is a lot of beige, she mused, surprised. She had thought Lotor would have preferred the more decadent, ostentatious, decor typical of the Drule.

"Where am I?" She asked as they crossed through a small sitting area with two couches and an unlit fire pit.

"You are in His Highness' stateroom," the servant answered politely.

"Yes, I know that. But where exactly?"

"Apologies, Princess, I can not say," the servant replied.

"Where is His Highness?"

"His Highness has pressing issues to attend."

Allura frowned at the woman's taciturn replies. She thought to ask what Lotor was called away for, but realized she would likely get more of the same obfuscation. Lotor is probably in his flagship, attacking my planet. Maybe Keith will kill him. The thought made her smile.

The woman opened the door to the bathroom. Allura walked in ahead of her then stopped short. There were two more servants waiting inside. They bowed as she entered. One carried a a basket of bottles, the other resumed placing cloths into a steaming bowl of scented water. A bath had already been prepared, in a deep built in cream colored marble tub, the water was tinted a light green and a thin layer of frothy bubbles spotted the surface. The walls surrounding the bath were matching marble with gold leafed accent mosaic tiles. Candles glowed in built in niches, also leafed in gold. And finally, the touch of Korrinite ostentation that she had expected; an ornate, hand tufted red, black and gold silk rug covered the floor. Allura thought it would have been a heavenly place to relax if she was anyplace other than where she was.

"Your bath, Princess?" the servant gestured to the tub.

Allura nodded and loosened the belt of her robe, she looked askance at the three servants staring at her expectantly. She clutched the lapels together for a moment before sighing in resignation and letting it slide off her shoulders. Modesty, it seemed, was a foreign concept with the Drule. The servant who had awoken her helped her by the hand as she stepped into the bath and while another scooped up her robe from the floor.

She settled gingerly into the hot water, crying out when it reached her sore flesh and burned.

At the sound the serving women rushed to her aid, "Is it too hot, Princess?"

Allura waved them off, "No, it's—I'm just—ah-" she broke off suddenly unable to speak and burst into tears.

"Ai! E'i la'a shayo ! An'na ishta! Nemu imi nasu!" the main servant urgently ordered the other two, as she rushed to Allura's side and wrapped her with a thick bath sheet that another woman handed her. She helped Allura out of the tub and to sit on the edge. "Princess, I think you need to see the physician." She said.

Allura sniffed, and wiped at her tears with the edge of the bath sheet. She stared down at her thighs, made bright pink from the scalding water. "I don't need a physician. The water was just too hot."

The three women exchanged sympathetic glances before the first one spoke again. "As you say, Princess." She adjusted the temperature of the water and after a moment Allura handed her the towel and slid into the warm water. As she looked up she noticed the servants were staring at the towel. "What is it?"

The head servant hesitated, "You're bleeding."

Despite her protestations -she hadn't really bled, just some faint pink smudges on the the linen- the physician was called. When she refused again, they, the doctor and the main servant, had pretended to acquiesce. The doctor offered her a pain reliever which she accepted and and took before realizing a few moments later it was actually a sedative. A strong one.

Mumbling and flailing ineffectually, she was led back to the bedroom, laid down and examined. It was decided an injection in her arm and a single, relatively painless, stitch elsewhere was needed.

All through it, she wept. Although the doctor did nothing to hurt her-he had even made efforts to make it more comfortable. Regardless of the fact that she was a grown woman and had had gynecological exams before and knew what to expect. In spite of the drugs meant to calm her, she closed her eyes tightly and wept hot, slow, silent tears. Because this was different, not in it's proticol or method but because she did not consent. The whole procedure was an awful, sickening testamony to her complete powerlessness. It was coercive. Invasive. Violating. At least as much, if not more so, than what Lotor did to her last night. It seemed she had no say in what happened to her body any longer.

Afterward, still woozy from the either the first drug or the second, she had insisted on being allowed to bathe; to wash off the filthy feeling of helplessness and shame coating her skin. When bathing was denied she cursed them all and demanded a shower. This, thankfully, was allowed. A maid had helped her wash and then style her hair, wrapping it around long foam rollers that would create smooth bouncy waves, complementing her haltingly in Common on it's thickness and color. Allura ignored her. When the woman had finished wrapping the last roller she began to apply make up to Allura's eyes while her hair set.

The princess continued to sit passively as the other servant lacquered the nails of her hands and feet blood red and dusted the tips with gold flakes that glimmered when they caught the light. Nanny had never let her wear any color but a sheer, natural pink. A color befitting maidens and virgin princesses. Nanny had said that red was gaudy and cheap. Allura closed her eyes to it.

When the other woman had finished with styling her hair and make up Allura turned away form the mirror she held up. She barely recognized her reflection. Smokey eye shadow and liner rimmed her eyes and her lips and nails matched her scarlet robe. What kind of woman likes this? What do they call them, Allura? She had no desire to see what she had been turned into-a painted harlot.

They led her back to the bedroom and she crawled back on the bed and slept. Sometime later she awoke, still in her robe, disoriented, dehydrated and with a head ache. This time the servant was there immediately.

"Can I get you anything, Princess?" She asked.

"Yes, please," Allura replied, "Something to get this taste out of my mouth." The woman vanished behind one of the wood panels. She returned a few minutes later carrying a tray with a glass and a carafe of some peach colored liquid. Allura watched as she filled a gold rimmed goblet placed it on a tray and handed it to her. Allura picked up the beverage and eyed it suspiciously before taking a sip. Juice. Just juice. She hoped. She took a deep swallow then realizing how thirsty she was drained the glass. The servant refilled it immediately. She drank this one more slowly, savoring the light sweet, but not too sweet flavor. "This is good. What is it?" she asked glancing down at the contents of the glass.

"Sienea juice. I am happy you are pleased. Are you hungry, Princess?" the servant asked.

Allura nodded. "Yes, a little," she admitted.

The woman bowed and turned to but Allura stopped her, "Wait, please. What is your name?"

The servant turned instantly and said with slight bow, "I am called Tana, Princess."

Allura watched carefully as Tana departed back behind the panel that undoubtedly led to servants' passages; trying to see what means she used to open it. As it slipped back into place she thought she heard a 'click.' Allura narrowed her eyes, I don't know how it opens yet; but I know it has a lock.

Finally alone, Allura sipped her juice, set it on the bedside table and lay back down on the pillows, thoughts of escape pricking at her mind. I have to find a way to access that panel. But first I need to find out where it goes.

Tana returned, not through the panel,much to Allura's disappointment, but rather through the living quarters of the suite. "Do you feel well enough to sit in the dining area, or would you like to be served here, Princess?"

Allura stared at her sullenly. My God! I'm not crippled. And she's so damn...professional. Have to hand it to Lotor, he has good help. She tossed the silk damask aside, noting as she did so the fineness of the fabric and how the scarlet complimented the warm woodwork. And good taste, she thought grudgingly.

She followed Tana to the room with the fire pit. It was lit and cast a warm comforting glow over the room. Several plates of food were laid out, one with thinly sliced meats, another with fruit, both sliced and arraigned like the petals of a flower and a third with fragrant herbs and vegetables. A small brass pot of broth was simmering on the grate over the fire next to a block of salt.

"Why are you being so kind to me?" Allura asked.

"Kind?" Tana hesitated before she continued, "the Prince Imperial has charged me personally with assuring your well being."

"I see," Allura said. She's just doing her duty. I won't get any help from her. "Ha, my well being. That's a good one," the princess snapped sarcastically.

"Your Highness? Is there something you need? You have only to ask. Are you in pain? Should I call the physician?" Tana asked, alarmed, an expression of genuine concern on her face.

That's not for me; she's just worried about her own skin, Allura thought angrily. "Is there something I need?! Something I need?!" She mocked. "What kind of a question is that? Of course there's something I need! I need to escape! To get back to Altea and save my peo-" She stopped suddenly overwhelmed with emotion and choked back a sob, "To get out of here before-before he comes back and hurts me again," Allura finished softly as tears she was fighting spilled down her cheeks. She turned away buried her face in her hands.

After a moment, Allura got control of herself once more, wiped her eyes with the back of her hand and looked up. She saw Tana at the sideboard pouring a deep ruby wine into a glass.

The servant approached her offered her the beverage. "Princess, drink this. It will calm you."

"I don't want to calm down." Allura snapped glaring at the proffered glass. She had half a mind to slap it out of Tana's hand.

Tana inhaled deeply before she spoke again, as if deciding exactly what to say. And what not to. "Your Highness, for what it's worth, His Highness will not be back this evening. And he was- quite distressed when I informed him of your injury." She offered the glass of wine again, "In the mean time, consider your situation carefully and do not make this worse than it needs to be."

"Make this worse? How can this possibly get any worse?" Allura scoffed.

"If the king were to learn of your capture, I assure you, your circumstances would get much, much worse."

"Zarkon?" Allura gasped as she felt the hair rise on her neck.

Tana nodded silently and Allura took the glass of wine, clutched it with both trembling hands and drank deeply.