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“Approaching the planet’s atmosphere now,” Lance said into the comms. “Preparing for gravitational shift.”
He pressed a few buttons on the screen in front of him, and the MFE fighter slowed, the cockpit jolting as everything began to float.
“Stabilizing,” Lance said, adjusting the gravity with another few taps. “Everything is going smoothly on my end.”
“Great work, Lance,” Shiro said, his holographic face rippling in front of Lance, silver hair turned pale blue. “Keep in contact while you’re on the ground.”
“Aye, aye, captain,” Lance said with a wink, the scar across his brow flexing as a result.
He closed the comms and neatly navigated the MFE through a rocky canyon toward a deserted Galra outpost leftover from Haggar’s experiments. The initial readings showed signs of some sort of explosion or destructive event in the past two years. There were no signs of life, and it had been over ten years since the station was actively used.
Lance expected it to be an in and out sort of gig.
He expertly docked the craft in the base’s defunct landing bay, which was partially destroyed and covered in a steep pile of jagged boulders. Lance sighed, pulling on his Garrison issued helmet as he exited the ship and made his way across the metal platform.
The entire structure was styled much like the other Galra outposts he’d explored as part of Atlas’s current clean-up operation. Everything was covered in a layer of dust from the smoky gray rocks, making it look ancient and faded. Lance used an energy scanner to traverse the ruins, finding an entrance hatch to the base. It was a dark stairwell that he was able to follow to the command center.
He stepped into a hallway that was pitch black. The moment his boot connected with the floor, a row of purple lights clicked on, a whirring sound echoing around him.
“Hello?”
There was no answer. Lance switched his scanner to become a flashlight, his guard raised. He had a rifle strapped across his back, and he was ready to reach for it at any moment. His sensor started beeping, and Lance looked down at the screen, confusion marring his sharp features.
A strange reading came through. Life forms?
He took one more step down the hallway, and the floor instantly collapsed underneath him, crumbling like a house of cards and dropping him one level lower.
He screamed, his weapon flying off of him, his helmet stripped from his grasp. Rubble crashed down around him, and Lance barely managed to throw his arms up to protect his head. He landed in a heap, the drop blessedly brief.
A cloud of dust cropped up around him, making him cough. He sucked in a breath, the wind still knocked out of him. His ears were ringing, and he blinked his eyes open in an attempt to restore his vision.
He gulped down air, slowly finding a normal rhythm for his wayward breath, forcing himself to calm as his surroundings finally coming into focus.
Lance winced as he stumbled to his feet, his hands resting on his knees. He pressed a knuckle into his back, stretching with a groan.
“Are you hurt?”
“Are you alright?”
“Let’s help him up.”
“Is that a Garrison uniform?”
Suddenly, a crowd of figures huddled over Lance, their faces shadowed by the light spilling in from the hole he’d made in the floor. It wasn’t until he concentrated on the sound of their voices — all identical, with a familiar cadence and timbre — that he realized it was Shiro.
Many Shiro’s. What the actual fuck? Had the fall made him lose consciousness?
“Shiro?” Lance mumbled, shielding his eyes from the light so he could get a better look.
“Do you know us?”
“Did he say ‘Shiro’?”
Lance’s jaw dropped as he stared back at multiple sets of silver eyes. Shiro clones. There were eight of them, standing in a semicircle around him. Their hair was black, with no scar marking their faces. They were Shiro as he was before the Galra, and the shock of it rendered Lance speechless.
They looked just like the poster Lance had on his wall while he was a cadet. His teenage fantasy come to life.
“How did you know our name?” one of the clones asked.
“You’re a Garrison pilot, right?”
“You’re cute, what’s your name?”
“Did you fly here alone? Where is the rest of your crew?”
Lance didn’t know where to direct his attention. They closed in around him, all talking at once. Lance noticed a strange purple glow in their eyes, and a chill went down his spine. They all seemed to want to put their hands on him.
“M-my name is Lance McClain. I’m a pilot with the Garrison. I’m exploring this base. I thought it was decommissioned.”
“We aren’t sure what happened here,” one of the clones said. It was nearly impossible to tell them apart. They all had the same hair, same eyes, same voice.
They wore the same Galra garb that Shiro had been rescued in.
“As far as we can tell, there was some sort of meltdown,” another chimed in. “We were released from a cryostasis a little over two years ago.”
“There have been limited transmissions from other planets. Are the Galra still in power?”
“Has the Garrison defeated Zarkon?”
“Woah, guys, take it easy,” Lance interjected, his cheeks flushing as they continued to swarm him. “Zarkon died in battle ten years ago. The Garrison has been assisting in intergalactic peace. Now, I wanna know how the hell you survived down here for two years.”
One of the clones grabbed Lance’s energy reader, inspecting it with furrowed brows. Another was kneeling to investigate Lance’s boots.
An image popped into Lance’s mind of his nieces and nephews, all swarming him, the clones fascinated with every detail of Lance’s existence.
“We don’t need food or water,” one of the clones explained. “We subsist on a vat of specialized quintessence. We’re not sure why it sustains us, but we’ve never needed food.”
“That’s...strange,” Lance commented, tapping his chin with his index finger. “Can you show it to me? I’d like to get some readings.”
They pulled Lance further into their cave, a few of them chiming in to tell him about their self-isolation, and fear of being found by the Galra and taken to the arenas. Lance wondered what the protocol was here. What was the Garrison going to do with eight Shiro clones?
He realized as he made his way further inside that the vast majority of the facility had collapsed, leaving this hidden bunker amidst the wreckage. It looked like it had been a cargo hold at one point, but was now cluttered with useful bits of wreckage and makeshift cots, large sections of rock wall breaking through the metal.
On the far end of the room was a massive vat of glowing purple quintessence. Lance walked closer, ignoring the clones that continued to prod at him. The quintessence was rippling purple and black, like marble. It was dissimilar to every other type of quintessence they’d discovered.
“You smell so good,” one of the clones said, running his nose through Lance’s hair.
“And your lips. They’re so full. I bet they’re soft,” another added.
“Uh, guys? What are you doing? Why are you all so...so…”
Horny was the word Lance was looking for, but he couldn’t bring himself to say it out loud.
“I’m gonna get a scan of this and send it back to the Atlas,” Lance said.
“What’s the Atlas?”
“Is that your ship?”
“No, Lance should stay the night here with us.”
“Yes, please, Lance. You should stay.”
Lance took a precarious set of metal steps up to the top of the vat, ignoring the clones as best he could while he opened the hatch and reached in for a sample. It looked like the ocean at night. Mesmerizing. Streaks of purple rippled through it like slow lightning, and motes of purple energy wafted from it, floating around Lance’s face.
He took off his gloves to transform his scanner, holding it between his teeth as he watched a small antenna pop out of the clever device. Lance dipped it into the quintessence, some of it splashing onto his skin.
He dropped his glove as his mouth fell open.
“Woah,” he murmured, watching as the quintessence disappeared into his flesh.
The scanner beeped as it relayed the quintessence’s makeup to the Atlas for analysis. Lance stood and grabbed his forehead. He felt a sudden dip. He was instantly woozy, barely able to make it down the stairs.
His skin felt flushed, his body tingling, knees wobbly as he staggered off the last step.
“Are you alright?” one of the clones asked, grabbing his elbow to steady him.
The point of contact sent a jolt of electricity up Lance’s arm. He felt dizzy, saliva pooling in his mouth.
“You feel warm,” another said, touching Lance’s forehead with the back of his hand.
Lance groaned, leaning into their touch. They moved like a pack, foraging across his body like they were roving across a lush landscape. Hunting.
“Let’s get you out of these clothes.”
Before Lance could protest, they were tugging at his suit, peeling back layers of clothing. Their hands covered every sliver of exposed skin, and Lance was a live wire, convulsing beneath their touch.
“Fuck!”
He was so sensitive, so turned on, his cock painfully hard in his suit as lust hit him like a freight train. His erection sprang free as the Shiro replicas continued to undress him, leaving him naked in the draft bunker.
“Bring him over here.”
“Don’t worry, Lance, we’ll take good care of you.”
“He’s so lean.”
“His body is gorgeous. And that face?”
“Wanna taste…”
“His waist is tiny, though. Look.”
One of them grabbed his side, the clone’s hand spanning Lance’s waist. He was a ball of sensation as the clones gorged themselves. There was not spot their mouths did not reach.
“Put him on all fours.”
“I want to open him.”
“Look at his pretty pink cock. Gonna taste it.”
Lance was overwhelmed by the sound of Shiro lusting after him. Of eight Shiro’s crowding him with greedy fingers and tongues and teeth.
They positioned Lance on his knees in the middle of one narrow cot, and he barely noticed that the clones had removed their clothes as well, his cock twitching at the sight of Shiro’s magnificent body.
He’d always wondered what Shiro was packing. He’d lusted after his captain since before they’d even rescued him and formed Voltron.
Now, Lance felt like he’d been dropped in the middle of his deepest erotic fantasy. The mission had already gone so far off the rails, and Lance could only turn himself over to the desire coursing through his veins.
One of the clones grabbed his hair, waving a cock in front of his face. Lance’s heart stuttered in his chest. This was happening.
Holy shit, this was happening.
“Have a taste,” the clone said with a feline grin, and Lance opened wide.
The feel of a cock on his tongue made him moan, and the other clones descended like wolves. Fingers pulled Lance’s cheeks apart, mouths nipped at his skin, and he could feel the moist drip of saliva pooling along his crack. A gentle tongue probed his hole while other hands stroked his cock and fondled his balls.
The clone in front of him began pumping his hips, fucking Lance’s mouth as the others teased him. He listened as they talked amongst themselves, remarking on every detail of Lance’s figure and voicing what they planned to do with their new toy.
“He’s so pretty.”
“Look at his skin. It’s perfect.”
“A few scars, but that just proves he’s adept in combat.”
“That’s hot.”
“Stretch him with your fingers.”
“His mouth is amazing.”
“Hurry up. I want to fuck his throat next.”
They were so lewd. So unlike the Shiro that Lance knew and loved. It was surreal — as if the entire experience was a dream. Maybe it was.
Lance groaned around the clone’s cock as two fingers scissored open, dragging along his insides and stretching him wide.
“He’s so tight.”
“Better make sure he’s wet.”
One of the clones slapped his ass and spat onto his hole.
“He liked that!”
“Spank him again.”
Another blow landed on Lance’s ass and three fingers thrust into him. He was dribbling precum onto the cot, a thumb rubbing circles in the sticky substance, pressing the slit at the head of Lance’s cock.
It was all too much, and he knew he wasn’t going to last long.
“He’s getting tight.”
“Let go, Lance.”
Fingers threaded in his hair as the clone in front of him began swinging his hips in earnest, his cock pressing insistently against the back of Lance’s throat.
“So good,” the clone growled out. “Fuck!”
Thick cum spilled into Lance’s mouth, and he scrunched his eyes together as he swallowed it down. Another slap landed on his ass, the cock slowly withdrawing, leaving him a panting, slobbering mess.
The fingers picked up their pace, and the slaps fell again and again until Lance sobbed out.
“Ahhhh!”
He came so hard he nearly blacked out, his entire body tensing and snapping tight, a series of haphazard tremors wracking his frame.
The fingers slipped from his hole, and something thicker replaced them. Another clone came to stand in front of him, and soon he was stuffed at both ends, the clones praising him as they fucked him, taking their turns filling him with their seed.
Lance lost count of how many cocks he took. He wondered if they were cycling through. It was impossible to tell them apart. Impossible to determine which of them had already ravaged him.
“Hold still,” one said, grabbing Lance’s chin. “Open your mouth, Lance.”
The clone held his cock in front of Lance’s face, stroking himself until he came across Lance’s lips.
“Such a good boy,” the clone praised, rubbing a thumb along a drop of cum on Lance’s bottom lip.
“I want a turn,” another said.
Fingers slid into his leaking hole, moving easily thanks to the mess of their predecessors.
“He’s so loose now. Wonder what we can do about that.”
The fingers delved deeper and pressed down, searching until they found the sensitive gland inside him.
“Oh, fuck!” Lance cried, his body covered with bites and bruises, his legs shaking from the effort it took to brace himself for their attentions.
He’d already come twice, and he felt like he couldn’t take anymore.
“Please,” he whined, but he wasn’t sure what he was begging for.
A clone knelt in front of him and thrust his tongue into Lance’s mouth. Lance whimpered into his mouth, the fingers in his ass grinding incessantly along his prostate. It was so intense, Lance felt tears prick the corners of his eyes.
Another orgasm was building in his gut, but Lance didn’t know how he was going to come again.
“Is he close?”
“How should I know?”
“Keep massaging his prostate. I’m gonna blow him.”
“I wanted to blow him.”
“We can both do it.”
“We should reposition him.”
“Hold on, I want to get him close first. You like that, Lance? Your ass is taking us so well.”
“You’re really sexy, baby. I love the way you moan for us.”
Their words showered over Lance as heat tightened in his core. He felt his thighs tense, his cries trapped by the clone’s mouth. One Shiro was stroking himself while he watched, coming in thick stripes across Lance’s back. Two others were fooling around in the next cot over. The sight of them kissing and rutting their hips together was enough to send Lance over the edge once more.
He came around the clone’s fingers, but Lance was dry, nothing left to ejaculate, his hips bucking as his cock throbbed.
“Did you come?”
Lance broke the kiss to answer. “Yes, but please. I can’t take it anymore.”
“Just a little longer, baby. You’re too sweet to pass up.”
“Please,” Lance cried as they began shifting him.
“Just trust us,” one of the Shiro’s said, hoisting him up as if he weighed nothing.
A clone laid out on the bed, cock jutting into the air. Lance was turned and stretched out on top of him, his back sticking to the clones front. He held Lance’s thighs open, and his cock breached Lance’s entrance, stretching him. It was a delicious burn, and it split Lance in half with dueling sensations of pleasure and pain.
“We need you, Lance,” the clone beneath him whispered, nipping at his ear lobe.
Another one wedged between both sets of legs, lining up with Lance’s occupied rim. He winced and cried as the clone nudged inside. Lance was impossibly full, both cocks working in tandem to pummel him.
They would move for a bit, getting Lance close, and then they would tease him, backing off and starting over again. Their taunts went on and on, a third coming into play by grazing his teeth along Lance’s flaccid shaft.
He hardened and grunted as his cock pulsed with pain. Lance was gasping for air, his body covered in a sheen of sweat. They edged him until he was wailing. Until he felt his brain fuzz out, his voice coarse from one eternal moan that echoed in his ears.
They fucked Lance like a ragdoll, and when they finally forced an orgasm from him, he screamed so loud and so long that he passed out, falling into an abyss, his entire being numb to the core.
When Lance next came to, he was staggering out of a healing pod in the Atlas’s medical bay.
“Lance!” Shiro caught him before he fell.
“Shiro?” Lance croaked.
He looked up at the familiar face of his Shiro.
“Shiro!” Lance wanted to cry. He wrapped his arms around Shiro and held him close. “It’s so good to see you. How did you find me? How did I get back here? I don’t remember—”
Lance’s voice cut off as flashes of the clones came back to him.
“We followed after you as soon as the reading from that quintessence came back. It was charged with some sort of super pheromone used to accelerate Galra breeding.”
“Huh?” Lance stared at Shiro, mouth gaping.
Shiro was blushing, and he couldn’t meet Lance’s gaze.
“You were found in a, uh, compromised situation.”
Lance wanted the ground to swallow him.
“Oh, no. No, no, no, no. This is bad.”
“I’m sorry you had to go through that.”
Lance tried to process through his emotions, but there were too many to untangle just then.
“The sex isn’t the problem. I just can’t believe the crew saw me naked. That’s soooo embarrassing.”
Shiro rubbed the back of his neck with his Altean hand.
“Actually, it wasn’t the crew. I rescued you. By myself.”
“What?” Lance looked at Shiro, trying to read his expression. “What happened to the clones?”
“I used a sleeping gas to knock them out, and we put them in med pods until the quintessence had worked out of their systems. They’re back on Earth now, getting reacquainted with society.”
“Fuck. How long have I been out?”
“Almost three weeks. Your body’s been through a lot.”
Lance felt a phantom ache in his hips and knees, his ass clenching. Lance cleared his throat.
“Well, thank you. For rescuing me. I’d better get back to my room.”
“Wait, Lance,” Shiro called after him, reaching out to grab him but letting his hand fall short. “If you need to talk or anything, I’m here.”
Lance looked at his captain and smiled. Recently divorced and rough around the edges, Shiro had aged like fine wine.
“I might just take you up on that,” Lance said, butterflies dancing in his stomach as he walked away.
Lance didn’t think he’d be ready to date anytime soon, but this experience had definitely been eye-opening.
Maybe someday he’d get to act on his crush in a way that didn’t lead to a space orgy. Lance laughed at himself, then winced.
No more orgies.