Chapter Text
Dizzy and with a numbing headache Lance came to. His memory was a bit hazy. The team had been figthing Lotor's generals up close, or the majority of them had. Lance, as the sharpshooter, had overseen the operation from a distance. He was sitting on a ledge, his smooth red riffle pressed against his body as he observed the scene under him. Everyone was holding up, but he couldnt findt Ezor, and Narti was pushing Keith away from the rest of the group toward Lance's position, which was worrisome since the closer they got to him the more split his focus would be and soon they would be almost directly under him. With an annoyed 'hmpf' Lance was about to radio Keith, when his rifle was abruptly ripped from him. It flew a good 20 metres out into the empty space over the ledge he was lying on, way past Keith and Narti.
Almost the second he turned around Ezor's pointed footware connected to his jaw as well. With his head spinning he barely registered the way she giggled as she grabbed him around the throat. Lance gasped and tried to pull her hand off him.He struggled while she pushed him closer to the edge of his hiding spot.
Lance remembered thinking he was gonna die then. That Ezor was going to throw him off the edge and let him plummet to his death, possibly landing in Keith's face and taking him with him. And he couldn't even yell out to warn him, what with being strangled and all. He also remembered the surprise that had momentarily distracted him from the situation when Ezor tipped over into the empty space under them, voluntarily falling. But then she didn't let go of him before he was falling too.
She cried out, excitedly, full of joy, and spread her arms out, the yellow skin, between them and her torso acting like some sort of wings, like a kite or a flying squirrel and she was in control of her descent. Which was more than one could say for Lance. He didn't scream, not immediately, he gasped for air, his windpipe having been shut off firmly just a second ago. And then there was the impact, and this was when his memory starting getting really hazy. Just as he was about to hit the ground someone slammed into him, catching him, likely saving him from his end. It should've been Keith, he was the only team member close enough to do it, but he could've sworn he heard his voice somewhere far off yelling his name followed but a lot of other yelling. He remembered the rest like he had walked away unscathed, walked away from his team.
He'd never do that. He rubbed his face and blinked hard a couple of times, feeling his headache slowly growing dimmer and less significant. The room he was in, wasn't his own, nor was the bed. The bed was in the middle of the square room, the sheets where dark grey and so were the walls and the ceiling and the floor, except for a round red carpet under the bed with blue detailing.
Lance was starting to get a bit concerned. This whole place looked awfully Galra to him.
He kicked the cover off and swung his feet over the edge of the bed, onto the soft plush carpet, and noticed what he was wearing. For a moment he was horrified.
Everything was transparent and so dark blue it was almost the same dark grey as his sheets. His legs were wrapped in lace up well past his mid thigh, and he'd been dressed in some sort of baby doll dress. It had elbow length sleeves but hung off both his shoulders and it had two bottons, only the top one was done up, making the thing look almost like a shawl, had it not been for the line of white pearls at the seam that wrapped around his shoulders and connected with the closed botton. But the most important thing about the costume in Lance's humble opinion was not what it consisted of, but what it lacked, and that would be underwear, something, anything really, to cover his dick, would've been nice...
Swallowing down the panic that was threatening to overwhelm him, Lance took a few deep breaths, a hand over his heart trying to regain control of the rate it was beating at.
He calmed. A little. Then he peeled of the stocking from his right leg and wrapped it around his hips for the sake of decency. He supposed proprity and shame was out the window since someone had obviously undressed and redressed him. A shiver ran down his spine at the thought. Some presumably Galra creeper had stolen the underear off his body. It was probably Lotor, since they'd been figting him last he remembered. Quiznak the fucker stole his underwear, he was probably sniffing it right now, or something else at the same grossness level. Lance shuddered. Ew. And when had he even last changed his underwear ? Ah fuck it, give Lotor a proper whiff of some serious ass crack. Given the connotations of his new attire, it'd be great if Lotor suddenly found him super repulsive instead of whatever this half nude lace thing was suppose to signal.
Was that a cold sweat coming on ? Lance tried to shake the thought as he stood up and walked toward the only door in the room. Metal sliding doors, no control panel or hand scanner or key hole or door knob or anything of the like on this side. Lance took a deep steadying breath. He looked around the room. There were literally only a bed in it. A mattress on legs with some weird looking headboard. And then those weird metal rings that hung from the walls about two and a half metres up. Nothing he could use as a weapon, no secret escape capsule, no back entrance, not even a window to bust through. Lance turned back to the door and lifted a hand to knock.
An idea immerged and he stopped himself.
He took off the other stocking and then the dress with the pearls and stuffed it into the long sock. The pearls might not be heavy, but they were hard and though both would've been preferable, he only needed the one for a make-shift weapon.
He knocked. A moment passed. “Anybody home ? Can't Lotor even spare a guard for his most impressive and dangerous prisoner ?” The doors slid open not long after and a Galra guard took a step forward. Lance didn't hesitate, he slung the pearl stuffed stockings right at his helmet with everything he could muster. The guard barely stumbled to the side so Lance kicked his knee in and immediately had him on the floor. He snatched the alien gun and was out the door in a breath.
He saw that weird Galran cat-thing Kova down one halway and immediately turned the other way the guard's yells echoing after him. He might be naked but for a sock and a gun but he had proved he still stood a change. The adrenaline was pumping through him. He felt a touch proud of himself. He stood a change! He turned his first corner and nearly body slammed Narti, he would have, if she hadn't been prepared for him. She only touched him and he stood still. He saw himself handing her the gun. He was screaming, internally. What was happening. Narti didn't let go of his shoulder and when she started walking, Lance followed obediently. He thought he was going to be sick for a moment.
She led him to Lotor now with Kova in tow as well. The Galran Prince was to be found in a huge ballroom surrounded by servants setting up for some sort of event. Tables and chairs and table cloths and decorations practically flying through the room. Everything however slowed down around Lance. The Galra looking at him quizically, some with disgust and some with lust coating their faces and postures. Lance's adams apple bobbed as he swalled nervously. He vaguely wondered which one of the servant would be charged with cleaning up after Lotor ripped his head off, one that wanted him or one that hated him. He didn't know which was worse. At least the room was almost a sort of beautiful, with the many glowing crystals in varying sizes that hung from the ceiling like a mixture of galaxies and chandeliers. Lance always thought he'd meet his end under the stars, maybe this was just as well.
Kova rubbed up against Lotor getting his attention. “Narti-” He started, sounding almost kind, before he turned around and caught sight of Lance. He cleared his throat and put on an appropriately displeased expression as he looked him up and down. Lance would've almost been embarrassed at the disapproval had he not been enraged at the way Lotor's lips failed to fight off an amused smile. “I see you were correct in your assumption, Narti. It will not go unnoticed that you stopped his escape.” Lotor said. He didn't look away from Lance.
There was a moments silence. “Oh let the man speak for himself Narti, I'm curious how he did it, and I wonder if it has anything to do with his modefied attire.” Lotor took a step forward and caressed Lance's hip over the fabric he'd wrapped around himself. It took only a second but Lance still felt the goosebumps spreading across his body. But then he felt a breath of fresh air overcoming him. He could speak again.
“Hey no touching !” Lotor made a face and rolled his hand in the air dismissively.
“I'm afraid you'll have to get used to it. Now will you tell me how you got out of your cell and why you've dressed down ?”
“Well as a matter of fact, it was a question of sheer cunning,” Lance established haughtily.
“And tenacity, I'd imagine,” Lotor added.
“Yes, that too, I'm very tenacious,” he agreed, “that and a pretty dress-slash-weapon, but that's all im saying.”
Lotor lifted his eye brows a moment. “Impressively creative. But I'm glad you found the dress to your liking.” He added with a smirk and turned away, efficiently endning that conversation.
He caught a servant flying past, “make sure the throne is at the far end and with a pillow for my new pet.” he said and turned back to Lance, “I'd like for you to be comfertable at my side.” his eyes bore into Lance, refusing all protests in their dominans. “Take him back and offer him some clothes before tonight. Its his own choice whether he wants to wear it or go naked. Either thing suits the occasion.” He smirked at Lance, looking him up and down and turned away without another word. Narti had haltered him from replying to his annoyance.
Back at his cell the floored guard had been replaced with two new ones and on the bed lay another costume for him to wear. Narti shoved him past the doors that hissed shut immediately after him.
The new dress was practically the same as before, still with bare shoulders, but with a high tight collar stretching up from the middle of his chest at the row of pearls and a sort of band to strap around his neck to keep the fabric in place instead of a button. There were matching wrist bands as well. He didn't put them on. There where however also a sort of underwear this time, which he gladly put on immediately. They were skimpy. But they were there. And they were lacey. Lace fluttered around his thighs and ass almost like some perverse skirt but much much too short. Lance was just grateful it wasn't a thong, though it was a close call.
Once he'd dressed (no stockings this time) that was it, nothing to do. About an hour or two passed in which time Lance asked through the door about a restroom and a previously invisible plate of the wall slid aside to unveil a sink, a bath and a toilet. The rest of his time, he used on patting down the walls looking for more secrets. Until the doors slid open again and Lotor was back.
“Paladin.” He greeted and took a step inside. “I would say it's good to see you dressed, but I must admit I'd hoped to see you less so.”
Lance flushed angrily. “Thanks for the new panties, since you stole my old underwear for your sniffing collection. I would've never pegged you as a panty-man, but I suppose you learn something new everyday.”
Lotor, the bastard, seemed genuinely entertained. “We all have our vices,” he smiled and walked to the bed, picking up the wrist bands Lance had left behind. “Would you prefer to put these on yourself or with help ?” Lotor asked and the guards outside took a step closer to underline what help he was talking about. Lance walked over from his spot against the wall and stretched out his wrists for Lotor to cuff.
“How clever of you,” Lotor complimented hollowly. “I'd like you to look your best since you are the guest of honour at tonight's party.” A cold shiver ran down his spine and seized his heart, making it skip a beat. Lotor chuckled bemusedly. “No need for that face,” he gestured to Lance and practically tried to wave the fright from his features. “Tonight I will parade you around as a personal victory for my campaign and to boost morale. And let me remind you that everyone at this function will have a background in the Galra military and are capable of defending themselves and defending whatever trinket weapons they've decided to bring along for the sake of their image. And your death, paladin, would not only further the morale boost I mentioned but it would make one of those brutes immortal in name, a paladin killer. Do you hear ? Don't give them any excuses. You're not only the blue paladin, but also the red paladin, and to be studied, and of course more importantly, you are bait. I want you alive, unless you deprive me of that option yourself.”
Lance could do nothing but nod as he took in that information.
“I imagine a few of our guests will be more indulgient than others, when it comes to the substances we provide and perhaps become a bit handsy as a result. If you can't handle that you'll come to me, understand ?”
“And what will you do ? Fight for my honour ? Or my hand perhaps ?” Lance snorted. He aimed for a good mixture of ridicule and indifference, but landed square in a pile of nervous please-reassure-me.
“You have no honour, you are my war spoils, my price, if they treat you without respect it is me they dishonour.”
“... That was weirdly reassuring for a declaration of enslavement.”
Lotor stood from the bed and made his arm available for holding without another word. Lance hesitated still. “Remember how I was going to have you beat and tortured if you don't do as I say and escape is impossible and any attempts there of will only lead to the aforementioned beatings and torture sessions.” Lance put his hand on Lotor's arm in the loop he had created for him to hold onto like a proper gentleman. Quiznak.