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A Simple Change	By : pkabyssinian Category: +S to Z > Voltron Views: 1801 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Voltron, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-A Simple Change
- 1
Title: A Simple Change

Rating: NC-17 for masturbation.

Disclaimer: No matter how much I want to I don’t own Lotor. Whoever owns Voltron gets him. I don’t own Prince Sincline either. Sucks to be me.

Notes: Yay! It’s the Merry Month of May! Time for my annual ‘touch yourself’ fic, this time it’s a little known character from a mostly forgotten anime. Why? Because I have a thing for blue men with pointy ears whom I happen think are incredibly hot. Yeah, I don’t know what the hell is wrong with me either. >.<;

Beta’d: Nope.

~*~
He woke from a dream of someone tenderly nibbling up the side of one of his sensitive ears. For a moment he wallowed in the sensation as the night sounds of the castle slowly penetrated his sleep-fogged brain. Aching in half-hardness Lotor slid one hand over his soft sleeping pants, his fingers skimming over the sharpness of one hipbone. His long fingers settled, twitching slightly, over his groin as his other hand began to make soft, sleepy circles on the flat planes of his stomach.
His long, silver hair was trapped beneath him, moving his head was near impossible. It was almost as if he were trapped by the silken strands. Vague ideas of being bound down with his hair slipped through his mind and became a hazy fantasy. In sharp counterpoint he dragged his nails across the soft skin of his abdomen. His breath hissed in with the pleasure of it as his other hand involuntarily tightened around his erection. He fought the instinct that wanted him to buck his hips into his hand and gritted his teeth with the tension.
Lotor paused as the thought of what he was about to do crossed his mind. It was illegal for him to do this, for him to perform any act where his seed might be wasted. His father, the King, had been explicit about his need for Lotor to produce heirs. Legitimate or not, there were to be children. As many as Lotor could create with his harem of concubines.

In direct defiance of his father, Lotor tightened his hand around his cock; the grip was almost painful and opened his mouth in a silent groan.
His other hand swooped down from his belly to massage at his left thigh, the fingers brushing tantalizingly against his balls. With regret he released his erection so he could slide his hand underneath he soft material. His fingers combed through the pale pubic hair that surrounded his prick before sliding around his long shaft. He mouthed a sigh, the almost noise exciting him further.
The very idea that he was alone, that he could be as teasing and gentle as he wanted overwhelmed his senses. In a hedonistic kingdom where sex was equated with pain, there was only ever one way to couple. To make it as sadistic as possible. And as the Crown Prince he was expected to be the dominating, overwhelming master of pain. Which, he mused, added a certain spice to his lovemaking. However, there were times, when Lotor longed to simply, gently make love to one of his companions. A heresy that would never be allowed.
With feather soft strokes he brushed against the underside of his cock, rubbing along the vein that was there. He bit back a groan; he prided himself on always being silent during sex. As he reached the head of his throbbing cock, he rubbed at the sensitive spot just before the mushroom tip and his long leg muscles tightened in response. A body long shiver passed over him and when it was done Lotor was left breathing heavily.
His left hand slid upward, over the flat stomach, ghosting over his broad chest, to play with the outer curve of one pointed ear. None of his current lovers were aware of how sensitive his ears were. One finger slithered up the brush at the point before traveling back down again to twist at the earring that gleamed in the lower lobe. The twinge of pain was like an electric shock to his groin, and he couldn’t stop his hips from sliding forward.
For a moment he simply squeezed the head of his cock in his fist then, almost unconsciously, he released his grip just enough that he could slide the shaft through. As his fist hit the base of his erection, he released his ear and let his left hand flutter down to draw indecipherable patterns on his chest. His fingers tightened for a brief second, squeezing his shaft, before siding back upward. He gave in to the impulse to rapidly pump just the weeping head of his erection, getting as much of the fluid onto his hand as he could. Once his palm was slick he slid it back down his cock and set a slow and languorous pace.
His hands weren’t the soft, pampered hands of a prince that they should have been. They had rough calluses from him becoming a master swordsman, his harem frequently complained about it. But the rough rasp felt good against his overheated skin, it reminded him of the person that he wanted most. Even in the depths of his fantasy he didn’t even think the name that went with the face. Thinking of them at all was dangerous enough.
Lotor imagined how those other, phantom hands would feel on him. Without the constraint of being a prince, the other would care nothing for his royal position; those hands would sigh over his skin, inflaming him. The muscles in Lotor’s legs and buttocks were so tense that they shook slightly as pleasure washed through him. His ghostly lover would force Lotor to submit to their soft caresses that whispered over his chest and down his stomach.
With harsh ruthlessness Lotor curbed that line of thought. No one was here with him, it was his own hand moving in a slow cadence over his body, causing his skin to pucker and shiver with desire. It was his own fingers flicking over the nub of one hard nipple as his other hand squeezed and pulled rhythmically on his cock. He was making himself pant wantonly and shift his hips forward in an aching plea for his own hand to move faster.
Deep in his center, he felt the desire shift; it was no longer something that he could control, something that he could tease out of him with this delicate dance over his skin.

As his heartbeat pounded in a staccato tempo in his throat, he hoped that he could continue the gentle masquerade, but his body was ready and unwilling to wait. His free hand slid down and cupped his balls pulling them tight against his body as his other hand began to move faster. He varied between long strokes that went from tip to root to short squeezes that caught the head of his cock in a vise like grip.
Lotor knew he was close, his legs spread wide and he thrashed his head as much as he could, overwhelmed with passion. His heels dug into the soft mattress and lifted his hips upward in a smooth motion that bowed his spine in a perfect arch and with a guttural cry, he came. His body shook with the release of tension, that perfect face swimming before his minds eye as he orgasmed. Bright spots, like shining silver fish, swam before his eyes as his panting subsided and his body collapsed back onto the bed.
Before the torpid languor could drag him back into the world of dreams, Lotor removed his stained pants and cleaned himself off as best he could. Then he kicked the offending garment off the bed and curled up like a stated cat. He should remember to do this more often. Much more satisfying than playing at prime stud. With that as his last thought, he slipped back into sleep.
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A Simple Change