Chapter Text
When Zarkon promised them a ‘token’ to express how pleased he was with their work against the Voltron Paladins Shiro wasn’t exactly sure what he’s expected but the Blue Paladin, bound and gagged, on their chamber floor wasn’t it.
But, in hindsight, maybe it should have been. What would Zarkon view as a more fitting fate for a paladin then to spend the rest of his days under the Galran Champions.
Keith broke away from him, ears lying flat against his head as he stalked over to the bound man. The fur along the back of his neck was standing up, a clear sign of his agitation. He nudged the paladin with his toe, nose wrinkling at blue eyes narrowed and the paladin made a face that promised murder. Shiro had no doubt that if he weren’t attached to the floor, held fast by glowing energy ropes cross-crossing his body and looping into rings fixed in the floor, he’d be trying to squirm his way into a position to attack.
“He smells and looks Altean.” Keith said finally. “We don’t want him.”
Haggar chuckled as she swept fully into the room. “Because he is. The blue paladin is Prince Lance, younger brother to the Princess Allura.”
Shiro arched an eyebrow but didn’t say anything. He was aware of the prince, supposedly an impressive marksman and warrior in his own right, and that with the ‘return’ of Princess Allura had come her younger brother and their caretaker, Coran, but they didn’t know who the paladins were aside from pains in the ass. This was their first clue.
Supposedly dead 10,000 years ago only to now be the pilot of the blue lion. Interesting.
Keith made an unhappy noise but Haggar clucked. “Don’t be ungrateful Prince Keith. Your uncle had him specially modified for you two.”
She inclined her head towards Shiro then waved her hand; the bonds shimmered then vanished as they powered down. The prince proved to be fast, leg darting out to kick at Keith with one breath and scrambling to his feet in the next. He fell back into a defensive position, hands up and legs spread, weight on the back one. Shiro looked at Haggar.
“Voice calibrated for you two.”
He nodded then, voice hard, spoke. “Kneel.”
The prince’s body trembled and then went rigid, as if all of his joints locked up. His teeth ground together and his eyes went wide; Shiro could see the sweat starting to bead on his forehead. It took a full minute before his knees finally buckled, taking him down to the floor with an echoing thud. Shiro was impressed; when he’d first been programmed he’d barely been able to withstand that long defying orders after months on conditioning. Certainly not right off the bat.
The pain from defiance was excruciating, like being electrocuted as the blood turned to acid and every nerve sparked with terrible pain. It had reduced bigger and seemingly stronger fighters, the best in the arenas, to sobbing and vomiting in seconds.
Tears swam in the prince’s eyes but didn’t fall even as his face twisted into a mask of humiliated horror. His lips moved but no sound came out; the color drained from his face, turning him ashen under the rich brown of his skin, and making the blue marking under his eyes stand out more.
“You took out his vocal cords?” Keith asked. HIs expression had changed, violet eyes thoughtful and, maybe, gleaming with a hint of respect.
“No. He’ll speak if you tell him too. Already programed to never attack the usual people or to run far. Unless you want him too.” Haggar smiled thinly. “We have changed some other things. To make him more responsive and…easier to share.”
Shiro hummed as he stepped closer and reached for the prince, fingers curling around his bicep. “You didn’t want to use him for the arena?”
That was unusual. The first Altean the druids had gotten their hands on in nearly 10,000 years and she was letting him become a pleasure toy instead of using him in her experiments?
“…The emperor thought he’d be better as a gift.” Her tone said she disapproved.
“Up.” Shiro said softly, watching appreciatively as the prince once again fought the order. He gave in a little faster, stood up on shaking legs with tears leaking from his eyes. “Sit on the table then stay.”
Another fight and then he took rapid shaky steps so he could basically collapsed onto the table Shiro had pointed to. He pushed himself up a moment later, skin shining with sweat and pupils blown wide from pain and, if Shiro understood pleasure toy conditioning properly, arousal. They were programed to enjoy everything, from pain to humiliation to being used as cruelly as their owner wanted.
Shiro had never enjoyed one. Prince Keith had taken a liking to him early in his gladiator career and he’d belonged to the other since then. He touched no one else and no one else would dare touch him. Even now he was only acting because every time he looked over Keith met him with a look of approval.
“Spread.”
The prince flushed up to the tips of his pointed ears and, fingers digging into the table with such strength the metal was warping, his thighs parted. Shiro pushed up the layers of the deep blue chiton he was wearing until it was hiked up far enough for him to see what the druids had done.
He knew enough about the standard process to see it had all been met. Small cock, no testicles, and a cunt. His asshole would be altered as well, to allow him to be taken with minimal preparation.
“He’s breeding capable. I’m not sure why you’d want to but. It’s possible.” Shiro looked up at a soft wheezing noise. The prince was breathing hard, chest heaving, face very red and tears still running down his face. Haggar laughed again. “Oh. I don’t think he was aware of the changes. We brought him right down once everything was stable.”
Keith sighed then, pushing Shiro aside, came to stand between the altean prince’s legs. He reached down, under the hitched up fabric of the chiton, but kept his eyes on the other’s face, watching him intently. His middle finger swept down along the seam of the Altean’s slit then back up. The other prince shuddered and the metal under his hands groaned as it was twisted further. Another pass and another then Keith’s finger pressed in.
The Altean’s mouth opened in a small o and his head tilted back. Keith’s hand moved, finger pumping in and out; Shiro could see it was wet, covered in glistening liquid.
Keith glanced back at Shiro, shoulder lifting slightly.
“We’ll keep him.” Shiro said, speaking for his prince as Keith pushed a second finger into their ‘gift’. The metal of the table finally gave way as the Altean prince’s fingers punched through it.
“Zarkon will be pleased.” Haggar said, a touch of mockery to her tone but when Shiro shot her a sharp look she was bowing. “Champion. Prince Keitheal.”
She swept out of the room under Shiro’s careful gaze. He followed once she was gone, made sure the doors were secured, then went back to Keith’s side. He seemed to be done with his new toy, fingers withdrawn.
“Bedroom is that way.” Keith pointed. “Get in the bed, touch nothing, don’t move. Shiro and I have to work so we can find the rest of your team.”
The Altean glared at them through half-lidded eyes but the effect was ruined by sweaty hair fanning over his face, parted lips, and having his legs spread wide, robes hiked up and hanging off his shoulder like some sort of debauched brothel slave. He slide down, chiton falling back into place, and stomped towards the bedchambers, head held high and an air of wounded pride about him.
Keith rolled his eyes then leaned against the table, frowning at the holes. “I think he’ll be fun to break in. Like you were.”
Shiro nodded and, when Keith held out his hand, parted his lips to let damp fingers slide over his tongue. He licked and sucked without being told to do it, cleaning away the tangy fluids. Keith watched him, eyes sliding shut.
“We need to look at scans and the footage from the paladin’s attack. We took the blue paladin but they managed to not just leave with the blue lion but to take the red as well.” Keith mumbled. “And there’s still the Earth campaign to consider.”
He felt a strange twinge in his chest at the mention of his home planet but suppressed it. He nodded to show he was listening to his prince and was rewarded with a half smile.
“But perhaps we can play first.”