Gee Whiz I Sure Am Glad For The Keith Show Part 4

The Slave

Chapter 1: The Shop      

        Takashi Shirogane was a man who enjoyed the finer things in life. As an alpha from a moderately wealthy family, he had always known that he was destined for greatness. He had achieved just that early on when his parents had passed away, leaving him in charge of the family business. At the age of seventeen, he took Shirogane Industries from a small family owned business to a multi-million dollar company with ties to several other countries and a hold on the stock market . His net worth was estimated to be anywhere between 20 to 30.3 billion dollars, and at eighteen, he was hailed as a natural businessman.         

        There was one area in which he was regrettably lacking, however, and that was relationships. His father had often told him that whatever omega he were to chose would have to be worthy of being his mate. Now in his early twenties, he was still single, and if he was being honest, he was starting to lose hope that he would ever be able to find one. That’s what had brought him here, to the sleazy little slave shop downtown.       

        He pursed his lips as he entered the building, taking in the musky smell of sex and distressed omega pheromones. Wrinkling his nose in distaste, he slowly glanced through the cages, examining each slave carefully. Most of them were beaten and beyond help. Having suffered through years of abuse, these second hand slaves no longer were capable of independence and would require around the clock care to even survive. A few mumbled dully to themselves and others just stared blankly off into space, none of these held his interest. The alpha had always been competitive and he enjoyed a challenge, so having a slave that still had some fight in them was ideal, that being said as he neared the back of the shop, disappointment welled inside of him. He had been wanting to come here for quite awhile, but from the looks of things, this place was a waste of his time.           

     Just as he was about to leave, his eyes fell upon a much younger slave. He was beautiful, with brown hair, sun kissed skin and long slender features. Maybe eighteen or nineteen at the most, he lay motionless on the floor of his cage, wearing nothing but a tattered pair of shorts. His eyes were closed and for a moment, he wondered if the slave was dead and he tapped experimentally on the bars to see if he would respond.               

        At the sound of tapping, the boy’s startling ocean blue eyes snapped open and he glared up at Shiro, baring his teeth defensively. Obviously still full of life, the young slave backed up against the bars and growled, keeping his eyes locked on Shiro.          

        Before the situation could progress any further, a large muscular man stepped out from the back, wiping his hands on a black apron that hung around his waist. Noticing Shiro, he strode over to him, “To what do I owe the pleasure of having Takashi Shirogane in my humble shop?” He asked in a deep voce, eyes flickering between him and the boy.     

       Shiro took a step back and narrowed his eyes, irritated that he had been recognized. “How much is this one here?” he asked, motioning to the still growling omega, “if possible I’d like to purchase him today, discreetly,” he said, adding emphasis to the last word.  

       The man laughed, turning his attention to the boy who hissed, pressing himself further in the corner. “I know the idea of a unbroken slave is ideal, but he’s been returned to me four times already. You might want to sleep on that decision. However, if you insist on buying him, he is quite expensive, you’ll want to keep him nice and stuffed, his energy level is quite high, and he is very aggressive for an omega. I will allow you to take him home today - for fifteen thousand dollars, that is.”    

       Shiro eyed the slave once more and nodded, “A trouble maker huh?” He laughed dismissively. “I’d like to purchase him right now. I’ll even throw in an extra five thousand, consider it a tip for your service…and your silence.” There was a hint of a threat in his tone and the shopkeeper picked up on it almost immediately and he nodded apprehensively.      

       “Of course sir,” he replied tentatively, “I’ll go grab his paperwork and a collar.”               

        Shiro nodded, watching the man leave the room. When he was sure that he was gone, he knelt down to address the boy. “Do you have a name?” he asked, eyes taking in the slave’s slender frame. Without warning, the boy lashed against the cage, growling ferociously, and reached between the bars in an attempt to wound his new master, who backed up just in time.                    Returning in time to catch the omega in action, the shopkeeper stomped over, drawing a blunt wooden instrument out of his belt. “Don’t you ever do that again!” he roared spraying the omega with spittle and thrusting the wood between the bars of the cage. The boy jumped and retreated further into the back, breathing heavily and glowering at both of them.         

       Offering Shiro a hand, the shopkeeper helped him up and returned the instrument to his belt. “Sorry about that. What set him off?”        

       Shiro looked back at the omega and rubbed his wrist, “I asked him if he had a name,” he replied, “I heard that most slaves are stripped of their names and kept so drugged up that they don’t remember them, and I wanted to see if he remembered his.”         

       The shopkeeper pursed his lips and shook his head, “His name is Lance, but he won’t answer to it. You can rename him yourself but I doubt it will do you any good. Not even a proper beating will get him to speak and at this point, I often wonder if he’s a mute.” He shook his head and faced Shiro, changing the subject, “now, as for the price, write me a check and I’ll hand him over.” The boy cautiously approached the bars of the cage, aware that he was in the process of being purchased again.         

       “Lance,” Shiro mused, pulling out his checkbook and hastily scribbling out the allotted price. He could tell by the way the omega was staring at him, that he could understood what they were were saying and though the omega had never spoken to the shopkeeper, something in his gut told him that Lance was just holding out on them.          

       Pocketing the check,  the shopkeeper approached the cage again, fitting the key into the lock. “Alright, he’s all yours.” Grabbing Lance’s arms, the man hooked a leather collar around his neck and pulled him out. The cage was rather small and it had been quite some time since he had been able to stand properly, so while leaving his prison was an exciting thought, Lance’s legs instantly screamed in protest and gave out underneath him. Before the shop keeper could make another move, Shiro strode forward and held the slave up under his arms, allowing him to get used to his newfound freedom.        

        “I’ll take it from here thanks.” Shiro said as Lance stretched out his legs in order to stand. The shopkeeper nodded and walked back towards the counter as Shiro led Lance out of the shop and away from his old life.         

       Standing in the blinking sunlight for the first time in ages, Lance wasn’t exactly sure what to do. He could try to run, but his legs were still rather stiff and he knew he wouldn’t make it very far. Lance was startled out of his thoughts when Shiro finally stopped in front of an expensive looking car.        

       Rearranging his grip around Lance, the alpha dug through his pockets and pulled out a set of keys which he used to unlock the car. He carefully placed Lance in the back seat, and closed the door, before walking around to the otherside of the car and settling himself into the front seat.      

       There was a few moments of silence before Shiro finally spoke, addressing the omega through the rearview mirror, “So, according to the man in the shop, your name is Lance.” When the omega remained silent, Shiro paused, abruptly starting up the car and pulling out of the shadowed driveway. “My name is Takashi Shirogane, I know this all must be a huge blur to you, and I understand that it will take some time for you to get used to me.” Shiro said, casually glancing back through the mirror. “But do try to behave, will you? It would be a shame to start off our new relationship with hostility.” When the slave didn’t answer, Shiro felt a wave of frustration wash over him. Though he started off almost every morning repeating the mantra, “patience yields focus,” to himself in the mirror, he wasn’t an extremely patient man, and one of his many flaws was that he was quick to anger.      

        “Will you not speak?” he asked gripping the steering wheel tightly, resisting the urge to yell.        

       There was another moment of silence before Lance finally opened his mouth, “I’ll speak when I feel like it, not because you order me to,” he said, voice cracking from lack of use.        

       Shiro was silent, he had to admit that he was surprised enough that the slave had even answered, so much so that he wasn’t immediately angry. “I see,” he responded after a few moments. “Well, I guess we’ll have to change that.”               

        Mulling over his new master’s words, the slave once again fell silent. He had no idea what was in store for him, but there was something that set this man apart from his previous owners. He was confident and well groomed and something in Lance’s gut told him that if he wasn’t careful, he might just end up like the rest of those nameless slaves back at the shop. The rest of the car ride was spent in silence as Lance tried to picture what fate had in store for him this time.

—–

This is a late birthday gift for the lovely and talented @jaspurrlock!

Ao3 Link Here

“are you okay” no, next question

someone else: *makes a mistake*

me: don't worry buddy! it is not a big deal! we can fix this! we'll figure it out!!

me: *makes a mistake*

me: i am irredeemable worthless garbage and i want to die

where do they keep the tiddies

I’m Gay - Eugene Lee Yang | The Try Guys - for the LGBTQIA+ community

Her face when I open the takeout container

voltron is trending just because of keith’s vlog

Hey. What if I started calling you my fire crotch?

Spence no

The Martyr

                        Chapter Five                     The Hand That Feeds       

It was dark. Lance wasn’t sure how long he had been chained up, but judging by the painful pangs of hunger that contracted in his stomach every few minutes, it had to have at least been a couple of days. After his assault, Lotor had returned to his room only once, to dress Lance in a blue silk wrap that hung loosely around his waist. But since then, Lance had seen neither hide nor hair of him. It would have been a safe bet that he had been forgotten if not for the daily visits from Zethrid, who made sure he was at the very least cleaned and given water. He supposed he should at the very least be grateful for that. Yet, he just couldn’t relax. Lotor’s ominous words echoed in his mind, and he just couldn’t shake the feeling that Lotor’s cruelty was only just beginning.

       ‘Don’t fret young paladin, while it would be wonderful to see your belly huge and round with Galran brood, I have other plans for you.’ That’s what he’d said with that cruel and sickening smile on his face. And, it wasn’t just the words themselves, it was the way he said them - with such a sadistic inflection that it almost seemed like what he had planned was way beyond any cruel or inhuman thing that Lance could imagine. That being said, what could be worse than being experimented on so he could carry Galran children? He shook his head, not wanting to dwell on such thoughts any longer. It was bad enough that he had been fucked mercilessly without his consent, the idea that he as a man could carry children was just too much.

       Instead Lance’s thoughts turned once again to escape and his team. Best case scenario he would manage to escape and somehow find his team in the deep recesses of space without his helmet or armor. That, or his team would bust in, kick Galran ass and rescue him. I could even deal with Keith teasing me for being caught, he thought with a small smile. An image of Keith’s scowling face came to his mind and a pang of longing gripped his chest. I miss him…I miss all of them.

       After a few moments of silence, Lance shook that thought from his head as well. There was no use focusing on such thoughts. He experimentally tugged at the binds around his wrist and ankles. Damn, they were still incredibly sturdy; there was no way he was going to be able to break them. His eyes instead focused on the wooden post that the binds were attached to. Maybe, if  he could just - the door suddenly hissed open, startling him out of his thoughts, and to his surprise Lotor walked into the room, wheeling in a covered silver cart.

       Lance’s eyes narrowed in suspicion, “what the hell is that?” he snapped, glaring up at the prince.

       “Sharp tongued as ever I see,” Lotor replied dismissively, bringing the cart to a halt in front of Lance. “You would think after three days of solitary confinement with no food, we would have been able to scrape off that abrasive attitude of yours, but it appears you still have more of a lesson to learn. We’ll have to drill it into that head of yours before the end of the month or we may just have to postpone my plans,” he grinned, brushing Lance’s hair behind his ears.

       Lance recoiled at the prince’s touch and fear prickled in his chest, but he tried not to let it show. “You never answered my question, and what the hell kind of sick plans do you have for me, anyway? I already told you that I won’t betray my friends, so I don’t know why you’re even bothering with all of this.”

       Lotor chuckled in response to Lance’s bravado. “I will reveal my plans in due time, Blue. We have a few months before everything is prepared. In the meantime, let’s just enjoy the time we have together,” he purred, dragging a clawed hand underneath the silk wrap to caress Lance’s bare thigh. Lance flinched at the touch, acutely aware that his cock lay within reach, completely bare under the thin silk.

       Before Lance could voice his discomfort, Lotor removed his hand and returned his attention to the silver cart. Lance’s eyes followed Lotor’s movements suspiciously, watching intently as Lotor stood up, wheeled the cart over to the side of the bed where Lance was bound, and carefully lifted off the lid of the tray, setting it down on the bedside table.

       Craning his neck, Lance peered down at the tray. Inside a large, shallow, metallic plate was a yellowish brown substance, both grainy and soupy in texture. It smelled foul, and Lance only recognized it as food due to the spoon that was submerged into the disgusting slop. Lance wrinkled his nose in disgust. Lotor picked up the spoon and scooped up the thick mixture and brought it towards Lance’s mouth. “Eat, it wouldn’t do if you suddenly died before my plan was complete.”

       Lance recoiled in disgust, tilting his neck away from the spoon, gagging at the smell, “How about I don’t and say that I did?” he grimaced as Lotor followed Lance’s mouth with the spoon. Lance turned his head away once more, refusing to open his mouth.

       Lotor sighed and quickly untied Lance’s binds, ”I was hoping we could do this the easy way but it seems that I was wrong.” Relief flooded over Lance when Lotor placed the spoon back into the bowl, but it was short lived, as Lotor suddenly grabbed a fistful of his hair, dragging him into a sitting position and smacked him hard across the face. Stunned, Lance turned his head to face Lotor only to be smacked again, this time a little harder. Without warning, Lotor gripped Lance’s jaw, prying his mouth painfully open before grabbing the spoon once more and shoving it deep into Lance’s mouth, clattering it noisily against his teeth.

       The taste was revolting, almost like liquified medicine and he gagged as the bitter mixture hit his tongue, but before he had a chance to spit it up, Lotor slapped his hand hard against Lance’s throat, forcing him to swallow it down. Suddenly, he gripped his hair again slapping him hard across the face. “Are you going to behave Blue, or are all your meals going to be this difficult?” Lotor chuckled as Lance coughed and retched, trying to pull his hair out of the Galran’s iron grip.

        “S-stop I -” Lance wheezed, gripping Lotor’s wrist’s weakly before Lotor gripped his jaw and pushed another spoonful into his mouth, this time nearly shoving it down his throat. With the spoon still clamped between Lance’s teeth, the prince forced his mouth closed and once again, made him swallow the revolting blend by smacking his hand hard against his throat before letting go.

       That was it for Lance who retched and threw up all over his lap and chest, letting the spoon clatter to the floor. Lotor looking disgusted, gripped Lance’s jaw again, this time landing a curled first against his cheek causing flecks of vomit and saliva to spatter against the wall. Lance, still heaving,  let out a choked sob, his face starting to swell where Lotor had punched him. With tears threatening to spill over, he looked back at Lotor who suddenly grabbed his face and forced his mouth open, but instead of scooping up more of the blend, lotor gathered a large spoonful of Lance’s own vomit and forced the spoon into his mouth. Lance gagged and fought against Lotor’s grip his eyes bulging and drool dripping out of the corners of his mouth.

       “Disgusting,” Lotor sneered. “Absolutely disgusting. I go through the trouble of fixing you a nutritious meal and you not only refuse my hospitality but you vomit all over yourself like some sick animal.” He forced Lance to swallow and immediately scooped up some more, pushing it against Lance’s mouth who gagged and tried to shove the spoon away. “Please stop I’ll - mmf,” he pleaded, only to be cut off as Lotor suddenly pushed Lance’s face into his own lap, smearing vomit over his face and bangs. Lance panicked as vomit filled his nose and airwaves, cutting off his breath and as he began to thrash, Lotor finally let go, watching as Lance retched and sobbed, gasping for air.     The prince’s eyes quirked up as an idea suddenly hit him, “Oh dear Blue,” he cooed, “you’ve made such an awful mess of yourself. Do you want to be rinsed off?”

       Lance shook his head, hot angry tears pouring down his cheeks. He knew from the very beginning how evil the prince was, especially after their last meeting. But he had no idea how disgusting and sadistic the prince could be until that very moment and he was not eager to find out what, “rinsed off,” meant. “N-no,” he choked, his shoulders shaking.

    “Oh come now, I insist,” Lotor pressed, untying Lance’s legs and yanking him off the bed by his hair. Lance yelped and tried to tug himself free, but Lotor pushed Lance down onto his knees, forcing him to kneel in front of him. To Lance’s horror, Lotor began to unbutton his pants, pulling his cock free and aiming it towards Lance’s ruined face.

    “N-no, don’t -” Lance started, only to be cut off as Lotor began to urinate onto his face. Lance was humiliated and disgusted and his cheeks burned with shame as Lotor emptied himself onto Lance’s face, causing a mix of vomit, piss and drool to slide down his neck and chest. When he was finished, he threw Lance to the side, who landed against the wall in a crumpled heap and began to sob.

    Grinning at the sight, Lotor turned, tucking himself back into his pants and began to head toward the exit. “I know that may have seemed harsh, Blue, but I assure it was a necessary learning opportunity. Maybe next time you’ll learn not to insult the hand that feeds.” And with that he left, leaving Lance to his own shame and despair.  Previous Ao3 Link

It’s January 13th! That means it’s Hunk’s birthday!! To celebrate, here’s a look at three versions of our favorite sunshine boy <3